Woke up this morning with the synapses in my brain firing unevenly. Things are akimbo. Perhaps it's the uncertainity of the future right now, perhaps it's the absence or a now intermittent presence that I had become used to being a consistent presence.
Some people have travelled through my life like morse code, dots and dashes, but no steady analog signal. This has meant that some lives have been open to interpretation for me, what does their presence mean to me?
Some presences have been more influences on my life than others, some people I have had intermittent contact with once every few years, other people become major influences in my life for brief flashes then vanish.
What's my influence on other people? I'm not sure. Someone I had tangential contact with years ago, has told me that I was inspiration to them to become involved in the political realm, and has put his name forward as a candidate. I'm far too young to be an inspiration to people. Especially once my sordid past is examined.
The future is like the sky, where does it begin and where does it end? How does one influence the sky? Past the gray clouds of a storm lies the same blue skies that exist on a sunny day. At the same time, blue skies of hope must be broken by periods of overcast skies casting a gloom as far as the eye can see.
I was thinking about the faces of the doomed last night as I walked the rainy streets at midnight. As my feet stamped through puddles, causing waves that broke the surface of calm, everywhere I looked I saw the doomed. Sometimes doom has a smile, sometimes it has the half crazed look of someone who lives on the street. But the fact remains, the doomed are all around us. As I travel these streets, am I one of the doomed?
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