i never write about the ordinary days, the ones that pass by quickly, without fanfare, no melodrama, the sun rises, the sun sets, i get up, work, eat, watch, and sleep, and the next day begins, with no rambling, no thoughts that occupy my mind, no questions that beg for answers, no emotions that tug at heart or soul, no pains, no spring or loss of step, but a day, just another ordinary day, and these are the days that are lost, that someday i will look back and wished i had captured, because it is this, everyday, that i miss when the everyday is gone, the little thing, the quiet things, but just another day, and another year closer