Stride
<< 9:55 a.m. - Wednesday, Aug. 17, 2005 >>
There are dangerous things in the ocean, my friend. I know them now, passing blurs of darkness, seen from below - toward the lit surface of water. I guess I always knew the bad things would come. I guess I always knew we�d all throw ourselves in as bait - we�d all receive unkind scars. But it�s taken me this summer to realize we�d all survive; distanced, hesitant, and a little fearful. The summer of our awakening will never transpire in the same way again, and maybe I don�t care anymore. The ocean has so many levels, so many unseen doors. I think it�s time to stop trying to walk backwards, stop craning my head toward lighter times. I can�t live in the present and simultaneously be thinking about when all my friends weren�t so fractured and busy.

Open a new door and close the old one.