mahiwaga

Maybe I just need to get into a rhythm. Usually I look forward to the summertime, never mind that I rarely get time off anyway. But I just feel, I dunno, bleh.

It’s only been a week since I was working a fucked up schedule, and that’s historically been how long it takes me to get back to “normal” (whatever that might mean, especially in my case.)

I’ve realized that having July 4th on Wednesday really sucks. Even when you’re working a relatively normal work week, you won’t get a long weekend. It’s just this random day off in the middle of the week, making it even harder to get into a decent rhythm.

Oh, man. I can’t bear to look at the big picture right now. It’s just day-to-day, hour-to-hour. Can’t I just watch music videos all day and let my brain rot?

Just one last cryptic thing, though: Skies the limit, my peeps. The road is wide open.

in the fog of indecision
the clarity of the dawn
in the anxious disappointment of missed chances
the cold, hard certainty of inescapable destiny
in the silence of defeat
the distant roar of victory

grip tightly, the snare slips
accelerator to the floor
expect long delays
memories fade
the heart forgives
but the soul remembers
the wound does not heal

we plunge head first
into this muddled sea of dreams

The Internet is a convoluted web, and I still marvel at the deftly woven connections between strangers, and I wonder how one can be touched by someone who you never knew, at least not in “real” life.

And with sadness, I gaze at the blaze of photons that reck of finality, of words that will now never be spoken, of songs that will now never be sung, of visions that will now never be imagined, and I think to myself, how many times, and no matter who, no matter how many, no matter how close, no matter how distant, it will be a long time before it will cease to ache at least a little.

For Ana Escalante Neri, Beautiful Friend • 2007 Jul 8 • Ian Rosales Casocot • the spy in the sandwich eats the sun

to atlantis, her home • kingdom of pretty

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