Captivated by Spacial Arrangement

June 8, 2018. 3:06:00 PM ET.

I found myself in a space I had been several times prior. There was a pool to the right, a staircase to the left, and lofty ceilings to enclose the space that I had endeavored to sit and work at for hours on end just this Tuesday.

Today the pool was quiet, and families were gathering nearby to discuss things that had no relevance to me – thankfully. I felt secluded but publicly deluded – is that a good thing, I thought for a fraction, millisecond, nanosecond – perchance my thoughts would escape me for longer than a moment’s time.

 

I had gathered to discuss hope. Lottery has it that only one in a million will win more than a million, and I have a ticket to the draw. Didn’t we all win a draw one time – not one of cards or guns, but one where we all were successfully competitive enough to win a multi-cellular space on this planet? The sperm and egg are such a small part of who we are, but they seem to take precedence over what we will accomplish depending on who you ask or who you even view. The same second it takes to generate a thought, is the same amount of time it takes to generate an interest, a smile, or a full conversational history of who we might seek to be. I’m talking about dating.

Not that I am dating – in fact, I’ve purposely rather avoided the subject for the better half of the last 10 years, aside from a few instances where I managed to fall into something I wasn’t sure I was really wanting or ready for. Mostly because I always remembered to screw it up just as things were getting comfortable or good. It’s curious how that happens – perhaps it was the other party – who will take the blame? Should I or shouldn’t I. That’s for another day.

The only thing I really wanted to do today was sit and complete a few thoughts on how the week progressed without the aid of the psychological warfare of medical professionals this week. Monday and Tuesday are so far away now that I practically don’t remember them. I think I had a good day on Tuesday; yes. I did because that was the day I received my first payment from the government for being so unbeknowingly outted from my work now a month and a half ago.

We said we would discuss hope, however.

Hopefully, things are going okay for you today. From the guise of a literal computer screen, it’s hard to tell what you might be feeling as you read this. As the words could only relate in a way that I don’t have the connection to experience. And you can’t really call me – I would probably dodge the call – doesn’t everyone? It seems that the more I want to reach out to you or other people the less I really want to be reached. It’s the bubble of secrecy, the fact that I don’t want to demonstrate anything I’d have to account for. Here’s a truth though. Hope is eternal because we live through it every day. We wake up with either a good feeling, a subtle disappointment, or something we can’t explain. The task during the day is to figure out how the day is going to serve us and the people we want to engage, or who choose to engage us. I find.

If I had a picture to describe you right now, I wouldn’t know how to frame it. I would probably take the corners off and place a soft edge around your halo, and then trim your feathers or square your jaw. It could go any which way, really.

Angels are born, angles are created, anglers are hungry, and angry doesn’t rhyme with anything.