Friendship And Today

Those two things separate quickly. It strikes quickly enough, those longstanding (or so called) relationships dissipate to little more than acknowledgment from a distance. Yet we still wear their significance as a badge of pride, something for others to see, I suppose.

Friendship is a curious lot. I look at many today and think how they may never have been true at all, yet they still get up every night for the audience under guise and recite lines with a Cheshire grin. The thespians are not to blame, it is merely the conduit of the play we’ve been placed. For many, there is no other choice. Nothing else they’ve ever known. What is, simply is and their only real option is to abide and sing along, hit the high notes and laugh without any real punchline. But what is yours is not mine and vice versa. Our songs and their recitations are deviant, sometimes from one side others the other. One may be in earnest and another may be only half so. Those deviations are something abysmal to be held so close and ignored. Those things are not something I’d like to keep. They cause more misunderstanding than any, they are not to be held with pride. They are of shameful existence that should be relegated to the shadows or forgotten completely, not to be paraded around for others to see in some attempt to validate our existences. Let them go, without malice or intent, but as a fond farewell to something that could have been but was not to be.

An Alteration of Sorts

Thoughts of my life swirl throughout the brisk air surrounding the lake which served as my younger home. Over the course of years spent away from this place, many things have changed; a great many have stayed the same. Years have wilted away, spent on education and work. All the while more enduring ideas and callings have been in the back of mind, faint but persistent. Other areas of the world, other areas of work and other areas of study all beckon from afar. Yet how will those things ever come to pass, so distant and difficult?

Neither distinction has ever deterred gain in the past. Achieving what little has come as of yet was due to persistence and vision, but it seems of little importance now. Maybe all things, once gained, are not what they seemed. Or maybe they become something else altogether. As the cusps of these peaks are taken, a free horizon appears and the sun beams anew.

New challenges call. Their sounds are consistent, though at times only through echo. And worry that the only truly finite resource any one person has been given is currently being squandered on a fool’s errand pervades consciousness like a lake to the fish. Maybe this lake was not meant. Maybe another body was intended. What depths could be seen in another! What depths? All of those uncertainties are the only certainty seen.

Many lives could be led today, but fewer tomorrow and far less the year after next. This fact haunts days as accountable to hours and hours to every minute detail. Those other lives are not currently within arm’s reach, but visible at least. Even that description makes it seem as though there was no choice in the matter, merely our own world revolving toward us and shedding light on the upcoming passages of time we couldn’t view previous. This is not intended as a digression on choice, but the active participation in one. Too many days of too few lives have been spent with one outcome; that outcome is near. The new life calls and I intend to answer.