Sometimes I feel like my life is the cartoon before the film, the light relief before the main story, the prelude to a plot point, to an epilogue that you just never see. And here we are just gloved up hands, dancing paint and googly eyes, waiting for the main feature to begin. It never does.
As I get older I sometimes feel the stretch of time, judging myself by the standards of others, marks left in the sand, like the instructions for a brace before impact. Lean forward, hold the hand of those closest to you, say I do, inflate jacket, produce baby, exit your social life through the doors provided, fill photo album.
With my life, I’ve no idea where I am. My heart is still beating, that’s always a good sign. The slow thump thump of a rhythm that is what moves us. We spiral to our death every day, like Icarus, never fully aware of our highest point, where we were closest to the sun, to our goals.
But still there is revelation in the falling, each move is an adventure, each word is that which propels us forward to our next potent point.
This is it, to be alive, confused as the day we were born, I embrace my confusion, I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. But then again….. neither do you.
Now, take a breath, fill your lungs.
You’re doing splendidly.