Folded Thought of the Day:


It all begins to pale in comparison.  With all the lessons we've 
learned and reasons we've come to believe.  Resting on laurels 
and becoming a reasonable facsimile of what you wanted to be. 

Spending time on circumstances.  The winter sun battling the 
humidity you are currently experiencing.  Memories know where 
the healing begins.  Even if you can't find the connection.

Making peace with all the neglected formalities.  All those 
arrangements and engagements.  All part of the package.  Wrapped 
up and delivered on your doorstep.  All those years ago.  A 
groggy-eyed turning of the grip.  The old ding-dong ditch 
routine.  Did you catch that guy's license plate?

But you can't go around pointing fingers.  Gotta take 
responsibility -- play it where it lies.  The one thing they 
never seemed to teach us.  Some lesson plan gone astray.  
Them teachers reading their audience.  A little give and take.

Lay your head down.

Do your best to display a modicum of improvement.  Perfecting 
the stance.  Memorizing the answers and hitting your mark when 
the paper was handed over.  Was there ever any doubt as to 
how proud they were?  Did you sense the horizon?  Did you 
feel that extra pressure during the assuring pats on the back? 

A little of the ol' natural selection in action.  No matter 
how you cut it, we've got a ways to go tonight.  Listing 
your achievements in twos.  Making much of the balance.  
Mastering discrepancies.  Searching for a tune to set you 
aloft.  Something in the night.  Sending a message to the 
believers.  Waking the nodders.  Delivering a notice. 

Get a grip.  Hold your cards close to the vest.  Entertain 
your options -- a little ground-floor show...give me a show 
of hands.  Gesticulate mad apprehension.  Finish random 
thoughts.  Go for broke.  

Distinctive characteristics...remembrances of days past.  
Following the script -- the trail of fears.  Getting lost 
along the way.  Carrying over.  And it all begins to come 
back to you.  Like a fingerprint on your forehead -- and you 
see through that child's eyes...the windows of your soul.

On a mad dash through the woods.  Are you the chaser or the 
chased?...this time around.  Mapping your course through the 
fireflies, like ships navigating by the stars -- casting 
your line into the depths and riding the wave of summer 
evening reverie.  

Did you tell her you loved her or was it the other way 
around?  Speeding up and losing track of the trail.  
Tripping on a fallen limb and tumbling, descending in 
an uncontrolled gravitational pull.  Both of you falling 
together.  Rubbing skinned elbows.  Tending each other's 
wounds.  

Wondering now if that fairy-tale forest is still standing 
or if it was clear-cut years ago.  Could you find that place 
again?  In your mind?  In your heart?  Half expecting to 
come across a lone tree in the middle of a vast parking lot... 
your initials still staking their claim.  


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