nicholasdanger

Everything is mutable and shifting, words that mean one thing sliding and changing until all the meanings mean nothing and nothing means anything. In this atmosphere, the air is thin and too warm, and little things travel farther and block my neurons and I can't think straight, hence why my thoughts are crooked and unaccounted for. Still, one can try, and try again, and maybe stick to the course, but then again, I've never been one to do what's best for me. Te occidere possunt sed te edere non possunt nefas est.

Anyway, some day, I'll work it out, why things happen and how they do. I'm sure of this, as sure as I am that the future we've been promised since decades before I was born is not coming, with a distinct lack of exclamation points and absolutely no flying cars or jetpacks. Waking up, saying goodbye, touching, not touching, singing along, playing the parts, whatever. Mutatis mutandis, kids, and don't you forget it.

So, what's next? Change is in the air, and is inevitable, and is probably for the better, and summer is coming (which I am most assuredly a fan of), so to what do we owe this feeling of reluctance and dread? Oh well, "c'est la vie" say the old folks. We're getting older, getting colder, moving on, getting better, getting bitter, and giving up. Can't say that I blame myself, though I probably should. In any event, there is work to do, and not much time to do it. Exclamation points aside, the future is still there, waiting to be slapped like a newborn and made to do our bidding, and so thusly, I shall get to it. Tempus fugit, and all that jazz. (snap snap) Good night, and good luck.