nothin on the top but a bucket and a mop and an illustrated book about birds
see a lot up there but dont be scared, who needs actions when weve got words
-Meatpuppets, Plateau
Not sure, that is the sentiment of my life. I have never been completely sure of anything. Religion, love, work, school, or even just friendships. In a completely chaotic yet predictable universe how can one be sure of anything? Just when you think you have something to lean on, the wood that has been there for years and years, splinters and gives way. I think I have enjoyed my life but Im not sure if its only because I try and convince myself of this. I think about all the things I have done, its strange how memories of the past become so faded and selective, just ghosts in the wash. It takes me a while to pull of images of my little brother and I playing with a remote control car in the parking lot of a middle school, which neither of us attended. I remember my friends of long ago, I only had a few. We would spend hours just playing, no amount of time seemed enough. I wonder if those people whom I knew for most of my life ever think back to the days when we used to be children and we could imagine we were something better than ourselves. Its funny how I was always more fond of the bad guy, he darker side of humanity. He always did have the cooler costume and the neat special powers. Back in the days of clearly defined good and evil. Now life is just life, and it gets harder and harder to imagine myself as a hero or more frequently a villain. I look back upon the years as if they existed as a landscape, stretching out below me at the base of a high cliff. I stand up here and see as far back as I can and find out I miss my ability to vanish into a complete fantasy world, to become someone else. The farther away the distant skyline becomes the more I yearn to go back and barely know the difference between reality and imagination.
(Leave
see a lot up there but dont be scared, who needs actions when weve got words
-Meatpuppets, Plateau
Not sure, that is the sentiment of my life. I have never been completely sure of anything. Religion, love, work, school, or even just friendships. In a completely chaotic yet predictable universe how can one be sure of anything? Just when you think you have something to lean on, the wood that has been there for years and years, splinters and gives way. I think I have enjoyed my life but Im not sure if its only because I try and convince myself of this. I think about all the things I have done, its strange how memories of the past become so faded and selective, just ghosts in the wash. It takes me a while to pull of images of my little brother and I playing with a remote control car in the parking lot of a middle school, which neither of us attended. I remember my friends of long ago, I only had a few. We would spend hours just playing, no amount of time seemed enough. I wonder if those people whom I knew for most of my life ever think back to the days when we used to be children and we could imagine we were something better than ourselves. Its funny how I was always more fond of the bad guy, he darker side of humanity. He always did have the cooler costume and the neat special powers. Back in the days of clearly defined good and evil. Now life is just life, and it gets harder and harder to imagine myself as a hero or more frequently a villain. I look back upon the years as if they existed as a landscape, stretching out below me at the base of a high cliff. I stand up here and see as far back as I can and find out I miss my ability to vanish into a complete fantasy world, to become someone else. The farther away the distant skyline becomes the more I yearn to go back and barely know the difference between reality and imagination.
(Leave