i look at myself in the mirror, from my white tube sock covered feet, up my blue jeans to my navy blue polo, and silver rimmed rectangular glasses, and trimmed hair, and think, well, look at where i am. 24. going back to school. single. not looking. a fetish for consumer electronics, preferably sony and apple. i went digging through old stuff, i always like digging through old stuff, old letters, old pictures, old times, good times, different times. 24. hours in a day. a new real time television series from fox. a flair for melodrama. and a motto of life goes on. the words and images don't come so easily anymore, the creativity, the well, not sure where it went, sucked up, dried up, away, a return to school, maybe, a return to roots, or just a different path. walking backwards never gets you anywhere, even though you're sure to never stumble. small, puny, insignificant, tiny, shrunken like kinds in a disney movie. like the dream i used to have when i was younger, of having to complete a task of moving cubes, huge cubes, twice my height, from one side of the room to the other, and all that time i had those dreams, until i stopped, but all that time i never once asked why they had to be moved. i never once noticed if moving those cubes even meant anything. i just went on living.
[about musings] ©1998-2024 [eric abando]
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