9:11 p.m. - October 04, 2003
My social life is like bovine growth hormone: Too fast all at once with unforeseeable implications. A cow on speed, anyone?
Later on I will look back and characterize this period of my life as The Great Unbecoming, an acceleration of moral quandaries that become decayed has-beens because velocity has usurped entropy and there is not time enough to reflect while shuffling Spec, Ryan, and Eli in a gallant (non)attempt at ordering the entanglement.
I tell them all I must work tonight and open the doors and windows to allow the breeze clear the air and remind me that while the wind smells like leaves and the salt from the bay, I am safe in solitude and yearn to embrace standing alone before others come my way and it's time to let them in.
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