muskoca

"you never step in the same river twice"

I remember I used to be able to guestimate the time of the present day, it was a game for children in our school since watches were something only the rich kids could afford. The fancy golden brass strap with those little hands ticking away. Today, miles and miles away from home, it seems that not only do the 's's become 'z's, but the leaves of the trees in Muskoca are changing to their mortal hues...and yet, I remain unchanged. Stagnant. The hands of a watch that doesn't work anymore.

The lake stretches out infront of me. So much water, a sea of submission, the opportunity for immersion, or then there's me, the last grain of salt... left apart to dissolve in a flurry of emotionally turbulent times.

Today, my mind has the advantage of generating thoughts my conscience can recognise, so much so that it cannot keep up with them. I think louder than I speak now. However, there is no excuse for ignorance, and no fatality worse than it. So I'm gonna try and snap out of it, this isn't silence, this isn't wisdom, this is numbness.

This rudimentary page will serve as another one of my many beginnings. Only today, the awareness with which I have to capture my thoughts add the slow effortless punch to the serious cocktail of practicality and sentimentality, of letting go to hold on, of coming age to appreciate the days of innocence passing...all, so that one day, one that lives for the joy of living in itself can enjoy the sharpness with which opportunity kick-starts the future.