Propinquity

blow the eyelash off your finger.
make a wish. turn it into a dream. draw it, like you'd draw a picture.
paint it with bright colors and whistful longing.

make a snapshot of the dream to capture it in its smallest detail.

that's your dream. it's pretty. implausible yet almost real.

now fold it up, tuck it away and put it in the farthest corner of your mind. to never think about it again.

then one day, years from now, take it out, whipe the dust off of its yellowed surface, colors faded, outlines dimmed, thinking to yourself "i once dreamed about this. i made the pretty picture- i must have been really happy then..." to suddenly realize that you made the dream come true by simply letting it be, and letting it linger and that you're living that very dream in quiet everydayness...

You are where you are and there's no way of going back. not only because it's not possible, but also because you no longer want to- and yet, at moments you see a glimpse of your future, still vague and undefined projected by your past, reflecting everything that brought you where you are now and where you will be at whatever random point in time.

i'm here. i'm real.
i'm breathing. i can see and hear.

i'm happy...

i'm happy to be here. happy to see you. happy because it's a nice day and it didnt rain and that i found a new song and that starbucks has come up with a pumpkin spice latte. i'm happy that the summer's over.
it's quiet.
and peaceful.

i'm in love.
with life.
with this city,
with you.
there, i said it.
can i go home now?

Richmond. Downtown.