lumbering

i sit in the kitchen eating dinner and listening to new york times columnist and princeton economics professor paul krugman speak about the grave state of america. his intelligence, and scope of understanding are staggering. i am reminded of reading "johnny got his gun," the anti war novel written by dalton trumbo late at night during high school. i would find myself so terribly disturbed that i had to walk beneath the sky, to keep alive the thumping heart of my optimism. and so i will type, then walk while listening to music. the smiths. and today begins to unwind with the night. some days are the color of blood. the thickness even. the timing and synchronicity of our existence moves like syrup through our skies, inflating the sun. i ran into an old friend today at a stoplight, whom i wouldn't have seen had so many elements of my day been different. but then my life would be different if my life was different. i suppose one should simply revel in such things rather than question them. and she seemed so electric and full of life, and how contagious that can be. radiant. an encouraging thing to be reminded that life does indeed move on, people grow and fall more in love with this process as the seasons change. how is it that autumn always feels so nostalgic? robillard even looks pensive. so as we lumber into october i grow more and more fond of the colder nights and gray skies. oh rain where are you? where oh where oh where?

Posted by jeff at October 6, 2003 08:56 PM

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