I need color in life, not bleak, not thugs prospecting me, not blind aggrandizing, but goodness, clarity, stalwart things, the life of higher purpose, exquisite gains, footstep by footstep. Doesn’t matter so much that Napoleon story, I will wish bin Ladin froze to stone, less worry about babies per millisecond, ramped pricing, wicked banking, yet all in all, life is amazing, thrusted wonder, awe, tremendous everything. Golly.
Silly isn’t it, when we pause, go back ten minutes or an hour, review that wee bit, judge it raw and cruel, asking if minutes are worth it? There’s always one answer. Precious. Another flurry maybe, a strong effort maybe, a rare insight maybe, a good hug maybe, a conventional unfounded postulation hung in politics maybe, a wee prize in the department store, a skill around a corner, it’s all new to you I said. Precious. Yes we can say precious.
I wonder if stars know? Surge by untired surge, the mess of stunning they are, atoms on fire, no less nuts than us, busy infinite in packages of now, well, might as well be, we learn nothing else from them. When I arrived I was dancing, they said moaning a bit, yes dancing, a little star of my own, pushing atoms too, stung in my shockwave, year by year, thrust through ideas, making my remembering, crusted in this finger, plucking keystrokes, coloring life.