often followed by up
walking through the park like a memory or riding a bicycle. empty spaces, dark shadows and turns all mine, in this huge city — placed in the middle, as if some prize, some moment. walking in anonymity through crowds, faces, people walking through their own moment — their own dreams. sun and dust commingle here, in piles around the reservoir as i walk, smell, wait.
sitting behind the met painting, reading, walking. individuals became masses, masses became lifted to one — steaming through the arteries of streets. life. trips on the 6 train downtown, walking from west to east then back again — there is solace and peace that could only have been attained from time spend alone, separated, tucked away in a small northern vermont town. it was time that brought me here. it would be time that would keep me here. walking. waiting. dreaming.
sitting through the time-warp back to unattainable reality leaves me waning back to life. breath in air, steps, music. comradery and love existing in the eyes’ touch out of need transformed. the quiet of rush and loud is softer than winding roads or dusty trails. peace is viable. life, inevitable. though the visible is blind and the attainable blurry, steps walked with sound and vision through all senses make themselves known through honesty and truth… life and death.
lost and empty, the endless search goes un-thanked, un-forgiven, mislead. time is only ours when we make it so. life, the same. we may only be what we believe, but truth lingers somewhere in the realm of the collaborative, single, known, unknown — it is up to us to decide where you take refuge, solace — where you take life.