Chain Smoking
by D. Aarsone on May.19, 2008, under Rant
There are moments when the world slows down, the sky seems within reach, where the articulate pace of daily life becomes a murmur. Insects sing, clouds drift along and everything else becomes trivial. As if dreaming, 200 years of progress becomes lost and meaningless, swallowed in darkness. Only the moon and stars remain. And you. Insignificant and special.
But moments like these never last long. Time and all its incessant nagging horrors howl; time for work, time for bed, horns and stereos blare, porch lights burst alive. The civilized world screams to be acknowledged.
But there will be time for horror later. After all, this moment is precious. The lighter flares up and we begin again.
April 28th, 2009 on 9:03 am
I find that sense of time easiest in extreme environments. It doesn’t matter whether I’m hiding in a small pool of shade in 130 degree heat or trying to turtle my head into my jacket to ward off -20, it’s weather that kills that slows down time best for me.
Well, that and moments such as “These are not the crazed crackheads you are looking for.” Them’s good times.