If a child spends his entire infancy in his mother’s embrace, does he reckon himself as being of her stature, or does he realize that he is small, only propped on a step?
March 23rd, 2009, 6.27 AM
I am acquainted with the prospect of becoming one with the soil. I can see the village Church sit atop the hill… it is all most mossy, yet it never loses its awful inspiration. I wish for one day to be buried in a Christian cemetery, or maybe go up and away in flames – I have chronically been a monument of my word. This is not a declaration of any kind, I am speaking merely speculatively. Indicatively? Nay, though my final day will come round at last, and I am going to need a prescription in place for it.
My grandmother is still well, why thank you. She still can’t leave her bed, but you know… My parents are well too, and my little doted-upon brother is also fit as a fiddle. Some days I think that I am doing this for just them, just for them. I am learning to navigate the world for their sake, and I earnestly try my very best to live vividly and inspire joy in them… for them. I hope that they can feel it, but it’s not like my efforts will have gone rogue either way; another day will stumble across my apartment, greet me “hello!” and smile at me, ear-to-ear, eye-to-eye. I love my family and I am glad nature made it so that it could, indeed, be so. I do not see a point in being loved back.
I am currently taking a break from this morning’s bike ride… bicycles are hard on my heavy, sagging limbs, but I give it a go regardless, for all but the love of the game. Another day will soon stumble across my cabin, “hello, hello!” a-yellin’, “you are worth something at last” proclaimin’ loud. I am certain that I will be very grateful for it by the time it will have evaded me. That is one excerpt from the eulogy of my faith – believe in tomorrow, because you never know what you will find.
This pilgrimage is changing me as a person everpresently. Was it really for the best? It will be tomorrow who shall find. I am as myopic as a cyclops, as is, as was, as will have been. My only eye on which to stand could use a monocle.
Leave a comment