Separation. Aggregation. Agitation.
One hundred funnels boiling down the ever turning wheels of our emotions. A lost and found box as big as the city. Empty streets and empty parks and empty playgrounds. The water pours over the edge.
Pull back. Step out. Get weird.
When it’s over it’ll all make sense and everybody can look backward and then forward and realize that the revolving door of life is bookended by the present and that the only change that will ever be significant is the change that will come when the door stops and we’re stuck. Only then will we decide to smash the glass and move into the open air of the street.
Pause. Distance. Abandon.
Broken records. Inescapable behaviors. We become who we are indefinitely and the only hope we have at breaking the cycle is actually breaking the cycle and that requires mindfulness and a commitment to action that doesn’t show up real often. It’s work and it’s uncomfortable and it’s hard. It’s a whole lot easier to just shelter in place and hunker down and do what we’ve always done. It’s safe.
Stay safe. Get home safe. Go home.
Have another beer. Get drunk and tell me all about how this thing is better than that thing. Tell me about circles and songs and how wonderful everything feels. Tell me I’m special and then pull everything off the table and take your stuff and go home. Head down the block. Head down the road. Head down. Meh. I’m good. I’m great in fact. This is my best year yet and if I die tomorrow I’ll be content and without regret.
Just call it. Red flag warning. Get off the beach.