I used to revel in getting lost when I was younger. I and a friend would wander the streets of my small town until we found places we had never been. I still dream of places and can't remember if they existed or not.
I began this post six months ago and am only finishing it now. The words themselves got lost on the way here.
Its so insidious, so convincing. Apathy convinces you this or that can wait. Apathy whispers "You deserve some down time." "Things are slow today." "You'll get to that when you are feeling better." I feel it sneaking over me like a thick cotton wrap, muddling my thoughts and weighing down my limbs. There is a temptation to fall back into its smothering depths and let it enfold me in, blocking out the world.
A hint of spring is in the air here. The sun shines and my fountain burbles happily to itself in the corner. Above it is the painting I loved so long ago in a store in Shadyside. The path to love it says incomprehensibly to me. I shall rise from my warm cocoon and go forth.
As I poured the creamer into my coffee this morning, I watched the pale swirls rising from the depths of the rich brown and remembered all those legends of the dragons that guarded the rivers of China. Seems like an awfully big job when the dragons are first born.
Maybe they start off as guardians of the coffee mug. I like that image.
As a child, my favorite games were the ones I made up in my own head and I convinced my friends to play them with me. Pretending was how I saw the world, but I never said pretend. I'd always say "Let's 'tend this" or "'Tend that..."