A selfish application of circumstance.
Disasters have crash-landed neat rings around me, and it's what I needed to wake me up a little.
Point out the perspective of the horizon a little.
It's not like I ever forget that there is a horizon, but too often lately I've lost sight of it in the debris and shrapnel from the cumulation of the last 23 years...
...and the constant wonder as to where it is leading.
School's out, relationships behind me, the shifting of lifestyles about me, me me me me....
Axis was right, it would seem, in pointing out the self-centeredness of the last few months.
Chuckies had the insight to point it out again today.
I'm going to have to think some more on it, but not today.
Today, we're hugging Tia because one of her childhood friends died yesterday, of stomach cancer. He was 26. As usual, nobody had any idea... And Tia's kicking herself for being out drinking and carousing all night in an attempt to get over her ex-boyfriend, and for not spending her last chance to visit him.
But it's nice to hear her talk about him. If I have anything to ask of death, it would be the sort of memories that her friend Peter left behind. How crazy he always was with laughter, the way he'd cut anyone to pieces and have them hugging him afterwards out of sheer appreciation for his wit. How clear it was that not one of his quips was ever intended as a dagger.
How everyone thought him weird, but adored him anyway, without understanding him.
We've lost another gypsy, it seems, and every few moments when Tia drags me out for a smoke and a cry I kick myself for cheesily wishing that I'd have gotten the chance to meet him.
To learn from him.
To turn my daggers into quips. To appreciate how many dazzling people there are out there, only it seems I will anyway, just from the stories.
I guess it takes a lot to still be affecting people's lives, having barely lived a quarter century of your own, never having met them, and never having the opportunity to do so again.
And in other news, my office-mate is having a nervous breakdown, and we fought about our parents and about emotional intellect, and he can't cope can't cope can't cope and I wishIcouldhelpIwishIcouldhelp...
and my arms are sore from yesterday's workout but my legs aren't and I'm confused but I think I've figured out the trick
and in other news, there are a million things to fix and implement and deploy, and the bills are frightening meeeee...
But somehow the ball is shifting again, and my feet are nearly planted.