Something Lasting

I take a break, just a few hours, just a few moments to myself and my headphones and I stare into the whitewashed walls that are not mine, that offer me refuge from anything that ever was. Overwhelming waves of words, of thoughts, of feelings wash over me, move me across the shoreline of awareness. Life is long. You were someone long before I knew you. I was someone long before I got here, and so few things are constant.

I admire the dedicated their devotion, the passion that lay in them when their hearts were only beginning to sprout. I envy them and think what the hell are you trying to do?, convince myself it was too late for me to blossom years ago.

When I was seven, I wrote a story. A silly story, it doesn't matter now. I told my father I was going to be a writer. He said yes, I think so. Sometimes we have to lose all we have, to be found.