It's the random bark of laughter from outside, or the tweet of an idle bird, or the shuff sound of your clothes as you shift slightly that's life's fingers snapping.
You've worked for years for this company. You didn't just push the papers around and clock-punch, no, you really believed in it. This was the place you were going to succeed and become someone. The long hours were a side-effect, a residue left behind like darkened eyes, back pain, and routine pride-swallowing; naturally, your victory comes at no small personal cost. When you shot off your final emails and noticed that summons from the boss in your inbox, you thought about whether or not you're going to be late for happy hour. When you were asked to close the door behind you, life painted your sternum with ice-water and someone tuned down your hearing to survival range. After you got the news, it was calm. Everything was calm. Slightly hot, but calm and quiet.
How many times does she have to call? Have things really changed so much since last time you spoke? It's hard to avoid questioning why you put up with so much of her shit, especially when the boys are snickering about that last barrage of phone conversations. Yeah, I'm whipped. I should put my foot down, and don't ask me where. Christ! The phone again? This time I'll tell her what's really on my mind. Yeah, hello? Listen, Don't call me- what? Are you serious? No, wait. No. Wait. Let's talk about this, what do you mean? But I love you! Just like that? No, wait, wait, don't hang up, I love you, waitwaitwaitdon'thang...
A day starts with an alarm clock, or your lover shifting in bed, or the segue from a dream to the orange-pink dawn of sunlight through closed eyes. Maybe a stretch, a scratch, an explosion of identifications as your eyes open come before your first thought shows up for duty and starts the chain reaction of waking life. You've got to get your coffee. Did I wash my black socks, so I can put together that stylish ensemble, or am I going jeans again today? I hope James can make it to that meeting tonight. Those tickets cost a lot, considering how I'm trying to save money this week so I can get that Valentine's day gift - she's such a special girl. Oop! No time for that now, they close soon!
What is it about the symphony of life that it's instruments can't be discerned without discord?
When you scour your heart looking for the roots of your love for that One, why do you find the source of their magic in the tiniest mundane details?
Why does taking action tear your life out of fear's perennial grasp, which draws your attention in perpetuity, only to hand it over to the sublime pleasure of daily existence, which you hardly notice?
How can your whole life flash before your eyes in an instant - but only just before you die?
It's the pat of water leaking in the sink, or the echoing horn of a distant train, or a breath of wind through rustling trees that's life's fingers snapping you awake. Can you hear it?
Posted by Matt at February 9, 2004 02:08 AM[stiffler voice] whiiipped [/stiffler voice]
Posted by: d0g_p00p at February 12, 2004 10:09 PMValentine's day, oh boy I cannot wait. It's that special day where you feel like a king because you and your girl are doing well and you know for a fact that you are getting laid tonight. I mean after the gifts, movie and dinner, you had better get some. Except if you are me. You get to sit alone in your house and feel like a total loser because there is no girl, only your hand to make you feel like a king tonight.
sorry been drinking.
Posted by: d0g_p00p at February 11, 2004 08:22 PMI still haven't gotten my V-day present from last year that you told me you had already bought, but never presented. I still want it, them. All 64 of them. (okay I would settle for a dozen)
Posted by: scratchymonkey at February 10, 2004 12:35 AM