Sometimes
it feels like I can only live my life in little snatches. Little
tidbits of beauty, or meaning, which are a part of something which has
motivations beyond my own. These little pieces of life are only
available to me in special circumstances, and now that I've recently
become aware of them, they seem like they are elusive. I never used to
look for them, but once I realized that this phenomenon was a recurring thing that had an indescribable meaning, it got weaker, and it stopped happening so much.
I used to get filled up with it on my nightly walks. I guess that's
why I started doing this so much, all of this walking at night. I think
I may have described a little too much of it, or I've given too much of
it away, and it doesn't want me anymore.
Lately these walks of
mine are tired, empty, gray things. I don't know what to do now.
Maybe it's just that I've walked everywhere there is to walk here and
didn't, and there isn't any more prize or magic or life in it. Maybe
that's it. Maybe it's just all too familiar now, and I've drained all of
the stuff out of things here. It feels like it's all dead now.
Everything feels dead now.
