Folded Thought of the Day:


The chiming of the hallway clock breaks the spell.  An afternoon's 
sleepy daydream.  Can't even remember where you went...some 
ornately painted canvas that has suddenly been washed clean, 
leaving only a blurry-eyed sense of the landscape.

Looking out your window, you see the scattered remnants of 
your life filling with rain.  A toy truck.  A coffee cup. 
A broken-heeled shoe.  An old chest full of musty shirts.  
A guitar case.  Hubcaps, ashtrays, soda bottles, a tire 
swing still attached to the severed tree limb.  

All lying about in disarray like the items in a yard sale 
that nobody wanted...just a bunch of lousy junk somebody 
tossed over the fence.  

And through an empty picture frame, you imagine yourself 
looking into the past...or maybe the future.  Like some 
cheap metal portal, you hold the beveled edges and peer 
into oblivion...as a hundred birds flash before your eyes.  

Their wings seem to touch as they move in an elaborate 
formation.  Like some beautiful mid-air waltz....dancing 
to an organ-grinder tune that's emanating from the carnival 
edges of your mind.  

But sooner or later, they'll be coming down to earth.  
A moment of magic will have to do.  That's all we're 
going to get.  In this age of enlightenment.  

Shake it off.  

Look around.  Imagine all of the paths that lead from 
your feet.  Down the hallways and through the doors.  
But the choice is yours.  To move down the well-lit 
hallways and through the doors with the oiled hinges.  
Or to set about on a different course.

Fishing around in your pocket, you're feeling for some 
piece that will fit...some key that will turn the lock...
that will free the bolt from its rusted resting place.

That will free us all.


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