Sunday, April 25, 2010

Pizza



Mm, goddamn I love pizza.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Grandfather

Where's your pride gone? You can't remember, it's the disease.
We jest about old age, but it's home to the one thief we cannot catch, cannot cure.

Where's he taken your mind?

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Cold Midnight

I don't remember where it was, exactly. Somewhere well beyond rural Alberta, but not quite to the mountains. This whole place is foothills, so I can't exactly be surprised if I don't remember the precise location, or if it even mattered.

All I remember is the feeling. A moment of being torn from time, a moment unto itself an entire eternity. I can remember every single feeling of that evening, from the chill in my nasal cavity, right down to the butterflies in my stomach.

In the grand cavalcade of history, it was a moment without relevance, an instant passed over and passed on. But there, looking over that lake, I remembered so many things.

And, looking over that lake, I remember. The water was still - barely a ripple. The only smells were pine and the chilly dampness of fresh water. Frogs croaked. Dragonflies hummed. The sun was well past, but a faint glow was still on the horizon. Deep, electric blue. Just a hint of blush.

Everything just kind of... condensed, start to finish. My entire history, unwritten, boiled down to a single, eidetic, lakeside moment. Happiness. Sadness. And a lingering feeling of loss. Of passing.

It all moves forward, whether we want it to or not. Moments like that are precious few, reminders that we should reflect between lifetimes of riding the wave.