A prologue for the pushing ahead, doubling back to stamp out another discredited shortcut. Woe to the young who’ve skipped out of their day’s reach, somewhere down that line, once dormant curiosity now lies in wait. With enough lived experience, the first casualty is always our initial pretension - its loss replaced by an increasingly overwhelming desire to turn around and peek back at everything we once felt ourselves so far above. The apparently quickest (soaring) mode of transportation now incurring delay after delay after the fact.
Soul, with what speech can I rouse you now? A slow day, but not for your body that keeps steadily working itself out of the way. I’ve come down to it, my words are hardly effective makeup. Youthful procrastination has finally come for youth itself! Cornered, finally, by deadlines, Lord grant me a burst of focus on grand exuberance! Blooming through the afternoon, may the sunset’s vibrant competition goad me on further. Late flowers coming through! Forever without a future until I finally manage to climb out of the past I dug myself into.
A long-overdue construction project, my city’s latest foreground disorder. Maybe there’s a good explanation for the day’s slowness, my life has become a necessary work zone. My traffic meandering, waiting for experiential infrastructure to finally catch it up to speed and end the scene. Half a year’s hammering ahead, a lifetime of footing to come.
Again, excellent writing expresses deep sadness with a hint of hope. I was deeply touched.