five minutes staring at the harbor

The water defies reflection, so murky it is.  A fine place into which to hurl your cell phone in defeat.  A place for casting off the trappings of a heavy life.  But instead I wash myself in rhythms to quell the disquiet in my mind, even though they just bead up on the viscous surface after a while.  The familiar songs last longest, the ones that bring you to a different place altogether, maybe the past, which still sometimes seems, unbelievably so, better than the present.  The present is shifting sands of calm and rage, of confusion swirling around islands of content.  Sometimes it’s good, if you can stay in it long enough to rise above what’s eating at you.  But when keeping your RSS reader neat and tidy feels like a big accomplishment, you have to wonder just what kind of life you’ve built for yourself.  One wasted, perhaps, dragging your feet along the back roads of the internet, all of which stretch on forever and lead nowhere.  Enough of this, though…it feels like autumn in July, only nothing is really dying yet.

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