Waves

The sounds of waves, rolling, alongside of this balcony remind me that there is no water where I find myself these days. I tell myself that this is in fact what I yearn for, yet the sound makes me afraid. I worry about the nature of such things, but not for too long. There is a feeling I get, every so often, that reminds me that I have yet to truly chart any kind of course. Not that all I've done so far has been ill conceived or reckless. It's as if I have been waiting. I find the analogy of longing to "wake up" tiresome; it supposes that I have not truly be at the helm for the majority of the trip, the navigation ordered in file and directive. Nonsense. If man has any sense of control, it is only control of the moment. Nothing else.

A decision, nevertheless, is now place squarely center-stage. It could not concern matters of the Dow Jones Industrial Average, the Obama Administration or the advent of the forthcoming decade less, that is not to say such things are inconsequential. Instead, it seems that a newer, fresher moment of opportunity is emerging--rooting it's way forth with vim and viger. I must not hesitate to seize such the very moment I am able to. We will not know, necessarily, it's shape or form, it's character or conscience. It matters not. All we need to do is fight that fear--the one that come when we see the moment for what she is--and press on because we simply cannot regress; that would be too depressing.

HBM Out
i'm not sleepy and there is no place i'm going to