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31 May 2002 (Friday): inching toward solstice

I watched the sun come up in my apartment this morning. I wandered through its three rooms all night like a restless ghost, switching lights on and off at random, moving boxes and papers and scraps of plastic wrapping as though to some slow chaotic choreography. But in the end all was in order, all the bits and pieces folded into their proper configurations. I felt vaguely like a ribosome.

We all have our unique lessons to learn. Some of us need to learn to let go; others, to hold on. For some the curriculum now is solitude, a spotlight on what can't be hidden from the mirror; for others, companionship, its myriad tricks and nuances. Any question about the human heart is ultimately unanswerable, because each of us has his own signature pattern, her own High Council of memory and history. If even the present cannot be measured, how can one claim the power of prediction?

End half-assed attempt at eloquence. I'm in that funny sleep-deprived state, where my body's saying "uhh, did we really just stay up all night?" And the outpour of comments on the previous post (both online and off) has left me blinking, both in appreciation and confusion. I don't know, folks. I don't know. But I am listening.

posted by enjelani @ 03:35 PM PST

Replies: 1 comment

"I felt vaguely like a ribosome."

I like that. I may steal that one day. ;)

posted by soren @ 31 05 2002 04:12 PM PST