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Flexing

It's rarely quiet in my home these days. Even now as 2 am closes in around me the television blats in the background; more of William and Kate. I should be in bed. Children always wake early on a Sunday. Why is that? I remember sunny days and being out the door by 7 o'clock myself. The new dew soaking my sneakers, the cool breeze of early light.
Life used to be more than about the Everyday. More than going through the motions of the mudane tasks. It used to be about more than just breathing.
It was just a few years ago when the police officer pulled over Charlie and I on one of our middle of the night drives thinking he was a dirty old man with a teenager in the car. Now I look in the mirror of my 33 year old self knowing rationally that I am not all that old, but I can see the subtle changes in my features. I am aging. Somedays it consumes me. Enough Somedays that it is becoming the mundane too.
I used to think I could live on into the immortal with my words. One of my old Everydays took up too much of my time. Then I started doing things like smoking my cigarettes outside. And then I felt a sense of cynisism and bitterness start to set in. The lack of new and exciting. Just the same old. The same old. The same old.
I guess I'll start with a draft or two sitting in my long neglected Dashboard...

Comments

Anonymous said…
>> "I used to think I could live on into the immortal with my words."

For everyone who has read them, you will.

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