Monday, June 15, 2009

The Night We Fixed the Roof

I wish my fingers didn't ache. I wish my eyes didn't droop.

I am often caught off-guard by the fleeting fragility of life. I am surprised by its quirks and the way things work out. Like smoke floating over the rooftops, the moments of our lives quickly pass into the ashes that fall among the cracks in the sidewalk where they lay tired - forgotten - lost - as we carry on high above, oblivious, in the lamplight. Last night I stared at the stars and questioned the purpose of my own life. What do I ascribe to? What is my goal? Where do I go from here? I am disheartened to report that they were silent, swimming in a sea of deep, tight-lipped blue. Will I be able to accomplish all that I dream before that sea swallows me whole and I turn to ashes and fall among the cracks in the sidewalk to be forgotten in a shadow?

Tutti e per la vita che non c'e.


  1. With faith and determination, I know you will. Besides, we shouldn't believe in the concept of failure. Instead, believe in delayed success. I like how you used a broken roof as a metaphor for all your thoughts.

    1. Thanks so much! I had forgotten about this post, but it was interesting to come back and reflect on it.


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