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2004-05-18 Sometimes, it is hard to remember what life was before i started tampering with it. Adding an ounce lie here, a half-pound mistake there. Locking a cannon ball of a regret around the ankle. Until the heft is so heavy with the things i carry that i wonder how another 60 years will weigh on my frame. Sometimes, I find music between the chainlinks. Enough of it is found sometimes in slow movement, dirt, and spit or in the slow archings of the sun and move. It is because stillness is impossible. I am hoping to be blessed eventually with a kind of forgetful forgiving--the kind i so often have with everyone but not with myself. PS. Later in the evening with Lauryn Hill playing through the dusk on guitar. She just makes sense. |