Summer Color

I guess the life after 30 is not much different with the life after 20 or 50 — of course, if God still wants me around. There were and will be changes at some points but not to that one particular point that I’m actually, still searching for. Let’s call it: It.

It is there even as I am watching Law & Order now. It was there as I was gawking at one particular view, or while I am still hoping for the answer, It is there. It, is everywhere.

What is it about It that is so powerful? (Yes Craig, It is Unbelievable). For a split second, It switched to its world where Hugh Grant depreciates his persona (and boy, It also turns Janice Dickinson abruptly, ugly.)

I thought It could sense rapid change of one’s mind. I thought (or think) It has no clue how sudden attack could bring someone to the highest peak. I thought It was (or is) lost and I expect It will never come back.

Do I really, actually?

What if It has found its tranquilizing place? What if It has decided to make a stop somewhere? My It is dwelling with inevitable abstract definition, and eventually, has to pull over.

What is It?

Is It like “Knock-knock-knock-Who’s there?” thing?

I want It. You want It. We want It. They want It. She wants It. He wants It. Everybody wants It.

It contradicts us.

“Do you want to reopen It?”

“No. It’s already late.”

Redemption of Reckoner

I guess all of us are disavowing the pleasures

As you can see the floating paper-made lightning bugs

 

Sit there and relax before the sun rises

The radio is on your head to see the lilywhite session isn’t blooming

 

Don’t swallow if it’s too hard to let go

Another angel in the urban globe

 

Embrace your arm, go back and make sure the feet aren’t wet and slippery

Again, disavowing

The same, repudiating

Reflection of disowning