My only consolation at this moment is realizing that most of the people on this platform will end up unhappy. Or will at least be unhappy for a while. These kids putting their heads together, standing close, little penguins, thinking that because they know how to get from Point A to Point B that they know how to get beyond that. Most of us will struggle with our maps upside down, asking furrow-eyes strangers the way to the laundry in very loud voices.
Cars drive toward me, under me, people laugh. People laugh a lot these days. It is important to find what levity you can. To keep from crying.
I remember being their age, their energy, I was just like them, and now I'm sounding old. What does it sound like to actually be old? I imagine I will always sound like myself, a voice that no one else hears.
I've lost my gloves somewhere along the way. I've lost my train of thought. Uptown or downtown or it really doesn't matter. They hold the same things, the same people, the same voices, the same crossroads of happiness. Searching, searching, searching, searching, searching.
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