Thread Bare

Buildings and bridges
are made to bend in the wind
to withstand the world,
that's what it takes
All that steel and stone
is no match for the air, my friend
what doesn't bend breaks
what doesn't bend breaks

Ani DiFranco

Living in Oregon, working at an outdoor store. Listening to the news as it comes. Banks are collapsing, bikes are being ridden, friends are leaving, and coming, and here. There is no time for the future when I am making time in the now, there is no time for the now if I'm living somewhere else.

Forever
is a long time
but it happens all the time

Natty Lee Gann wrote that.

The summer slips by. Cold grey wildernesses turn to green blue and warm wonderfuls. August. The heat, the grass grows yellow, stops growing. The season of new love slips towards the season of yellowing leaves, of falling petals, of windy days on long mountain ridges. Alone in the world, together with all this wilderness.

My Only, wants to find an Only, and I only want the best for us both. The wind. It blows, in my phone, and when I awake I wonder. What was that wind? Did it speak to me? I can't remember the words.

People worry about everyone else, when their own lives are in jeopardy, and struggle to find the holds to grip as they climb towards their own dreams.

I grapple with the tangible in intangible ways.

The world is too complex to see it all as a whole and function logically. We focus on the experiences most meaningful to us and make qualitative judgements derived from these experiences, thereby becoming individuals, yet still within a mass. All moving in the same direction is seems, yet all going about in our own directions.

And ahh, The Thread. It is there, it is hard, it is soft. I can grab it, I can't find it. Did I lose my thread? No I'm IN my thread.