the lost man chronicles
31. all the gems that make the sand
so, i had a realization this morning.
than i had a realization about this realization,
or rather, it was more like a question—
"so, what's with all the realizations lately? why are you so frequently falling over the deluge of epiphany?"
for a moment, stuck in hubris, my passing fancy of a thought replied, "why, i'm special." i knew and know this is (and was) not true though, and therefore—i dug deeper.
then i realized…all of us, well, most, okay-okay, "many" of us, have realizations, epiphanies and eye-opening disillusions daily. and i , i am only different because i notice and note them more often. and that, in fact, is the difference.
in other words (i will always have them), shamelessly, i abuse what should be obvious, and is really, but which only flourishes when there are moments to remind us. thus, what may seem extra ordinarily wise is all but a matter of being hypnotized by the moment and a matter of then opening one's eyes to see all that is and all that lies there before us.
so, it seems that maybe my eyes are open just a little wider. or, it could be that i shamelessly often then take the opportunity to bake the crux of something into a pie, assembling the residual crumbs of quotidian consumption into recycled morsels for dessert. and when you often find yourself in the desert of my provincial existence, you tend to wander and wonder and eventually hallucinate until you find—all the gems that make up the sand.
sometimes in a small existence .30 32. the contradictions