bridging moments
two people on a bridge- a picture of many metaphors. the girl looks at him intently while he talks of another lifetime or is it a parallel universe? she smiles thinking how easy really it is for her to let people open up to her about their fears and loves and dreams. But how it is only now that she finds herself sharing the same intimate things- thoughts and feelings and yes, fears and loves lost and hopes flowing out to him like the brook under the bridge. sharing not only in words but in gestures and looks and touch and in the moments where some truths are left silent.
he revels at how the hours quickly dissolve into picturesque moments in their heads. nights into early mornings and afternoons into dusks of fireflies and soft light. if life is only a composition of finite moments- from one breath to another- do we live for the future or for the now? and in which little corner in your head do you fit the battle between commitment and regret- and their spawn, guilt?
what if we don’t have any notions of right and wrong? we are only aware of happiness and sadness and the things in between? and we just cross bridges and on some, linger a bit longer than the day allows?
entrada de bismuth a las
6:47 a. m.
3 comentarios:
your entry seems to have a bit of similarity with mussolini's latest, except that yours has love written almost all over it. is this a sign of old age? we deconstruct every episode in our lives -- or in our minds -- in the hope of getting more sense out of today and what lies ahead.
i have love written all over it? anyway, yes bro, we are getting older. and we are refusing every bit of the way there.
i like crossing bridges but better still i like to stop and watch the river flow.
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