Monday, December 31, 2007

It's a quarter of an hour down, and I'm beating down the gate. 

I'm ready to tear out, into the future. My feet hurt, but that's not stopped me before. 
I'm beaten up by my own expectations, but I've got more. 

I'm pacing, chomping at the bit. 

Ready to go, ready to go forward. Ready to let go of a situation which has let us down. It's part of the system here, at some point the airbags deploy, and deny an extension. 

I'm glad of it. Let me go, let him go. Let us all out of a situation which is only concerned with how much suction it can apply to its own appendage. 

We're in a place of ready waiting. 
We are a sprung trap for the future. 

Sipping Veuve Cliquot, nibbling blackeyes stewed slow in adobo and harissa, a smoked hock and a bay leaf I grew myself.. how can the indifferent revolution of the earth not be moved by our simple joy?

We are the luckiest people in the world. We have each other, this life, our experiences, memories, expectations, wonder, curiosity, adventure and optimism. 

We're ready to break the gate. 

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