exercising my literacy

Ecclesiastes.

It's a rare moment, right now. Ephemeral even. Seconds away, I know it will be gone.

It's puzzlingly foreign, and yet faintly familiar. That these two emotions now co-exist quickly bring on a third; that of sadness.

There was a time when thoughts were studied upon, scrutinised and revised. Ideas were frequent and deliberate. Days of careful planning, reams of scruptulous and diligent maxims about how I would be. Considerate in purpose, relation, vocation. Life thought out, life thought through.

Now? The daily grind drones on like music from the car radio - muffled and never-ending, switched on only because it can be. Buying things only because I can. Doing things because that's what's done. Work, sleep, go out. Repeat.

In this moment of revelation, now on the brink of extinction, it prophecies that I'm being replaced by someone I never wanted to be.

"And that song wraps up our ad-free music hour. Next up..."

My pager goes off, someone calls my name, or the traffic clears. No particular interruption descends, and like that, the thought is gone.

Oh please, I scold myself. Don't be a drama queen. Don't be a baby.

I get up to answer the page, I put my foot on the pedal. I move.

And yet in some metaphorical hourglass, another grain trickles away.

posted by me. @ 7:23 PM