Life is funny because one moment I can be fumbling in the dark for the light cord dangling from my fan and the next staring blankly at book spines.
It brings me back to taking the overhead bridge on a whim once, instead of the usual route past the construction sites to Macs. Looking down, all alone above the world, into a canal filled with choking weeds and green unflowing water, lumpy pieces of garbage. Beside it ran a parallel road, wide and efficient with the rumble of speeding cars zipping by, flashes of color against the grey. From that view, suddenly a great and terrible sadness rose in me, though I did not understand why. Maybe it was because for a split second, I saw through those two lines, the stagnant and unceasing pathways, the futility of endeavor and the hope of innovation juxtaposed, ever turning and returning. And between them, no space. How simple the crossing from one to the other.
Every time I can’t find the cord, I am in that momentary existence of pure uncertainty. I am transported back to a still day on that bridge. I don’t know why, there’s no actual connection between the two things. It’s infuriating; but it makes me thankful for not having a boring switch to flip instead.
There’s the intense and funny hunbunzzz that I love. <3 yep right there. *points*
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