Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Let's Take An Old Fashioned Walk

It's funny how wiping down a table for the hundredth time can make you feel dead.
I don't mean that in the exaggerated sense, or the "I'm gonna go online to complain like a little bitch," sense.
I mean it in the parallel "not alive" sense. 
Working any job for an extended period of time with a constant unwavering, regime will make anyone question their current position in life. 
Rather than focusing on not feeling alive, I instead wanted to reflect on the moments in my life in which I felt the most alive. 
Since most of the moments are precious to me and would take far too much time to extrapolate, I'll instead provide glimpses.

Stumbling into a pond as an infant, having mistaken it as a patch of grass. Water enveloping me, the light form the Sun breaking through the surface. A strong hand grasping my wrist, pulling me sharply upward.

The cold night air whipping my face as the cruise boat sliced calmly across Coeur d'Alene lake, the town's Christmas lights in the distance. A heavy coat keeping me warm as a friend and I stare intently into the distance.

Opening a can of Root Beer in a movie theater, surrounded by laughing, raucous comrades.

Four young men, jumping off a dock into Liberty Lake, skinny dipping on a warm summer night. 

Relaxing on steps leading to Riverfront Park's river. The hushed quacking of ducks moving quietly through the water. A head lightly resting against my shoulder as dusk approaches.

Wandering through Times Square, people teaming past me, the bright lights illuminating what seemed like the world.

A gentle kiss, tears falling, promises fervently made.

The barrel of a shotgun resting against my temple, a short man screaming, demanding money.


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