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Endlessecho
Member
since 2003-09-05
Posts 398
I live within myself

0 posted 2004-02-13 11:39 AM


PART SEVEN

I leave my office and walk to my car.  I love this time of day.  I love driving my car; not so much on trips as in my routine, driving between home and work and shopping and friends.  It’s a freeing independent feeling; knowing I control where I go.  I listen to what I want on the radio and I feel the freedom of choices and independence and open road.  At the same time, I’m comforted by the familiarity of the streets that I travel so often and the only towns I’ve ever known.  

I know, though, that I don’t want to live here forever.  For now, this is good.  But, I don’t want to live and die in the same place I was born and have lived in all my life so far.  I know I want to leave someday.  That day just hasn’t come yet.  

I like drive-thrus and gas stations and parking lots.  It’s hard to explain why things seem so much easier to deal with when my hands grip the steering wheel.  It’s nice that I can be happy after leaving a long and tedious day at work just by being in my car and driving.  I’m happy to drive home.  I think I love that most of all.  

Home, like love – that too has many faces; so many connotations; haven, prison, fortress, island.  If home is where you belong than I haven’t found mine yet.  But, I’ve found someplace safe until I do.

    
PART EIGHT

A perfect moment.

A perfect moment is sitting under a tree reading a book.  The sun is bright and there’s a light breeze.  I look and feel good, but most importantly, I look and feel at peace.  My mind and body are in harmony with each other and my surroundings.  I’m part of the picture.  Nature doesn’t surround me.  It includes me.  I’m not a cutout piece from a separate magazine placed into a painted scene; slightly askew, not quite centered, not quite fitting in.  Like most times.  But, not during a perfect moment.  During a perfect moment, under that tree, lost in a book and enclosed by nature, I fit so right; you couldn’t pick me out.  

When the picture would be missing something without me.  That’s a perfect moment.


PART NINE

Only my pinky nail grows.  The smallest one; the strongest one.  I’m the smallest in my family, the youngest.  

All the others break.  Some because they’re fragile and weak.  They easily bend and tear.  Some because I bite them off.  Teeth attack and soft nails can’t fight against them.  Others stay what they are, where they are.  They don’t try to change, grow bigger.  They don’t like change, improvement, progress.  They stay in the safety zone, just above the fingertip; soft cushion of flesh.  They don’t grow.  They don’t find their own way.  

Only the pinky nail grows.  All the others break.

© Copyright 2004 Endlessecho - All Rights Reserved
skyshine
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Member Elite
since 2002-02-07
Posts 3058
Beneath the northern stars
1 posted 2004-02-22 11:31 PM


Very interesting.

~sky

Hold on, if you feel like letting go
Hold on, it gets better than you know....
~Good Charlotte

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