these tiny brackets

I'm not quite sure the weight of its contents.
It's something more than nothing but it's nothing precious.
Objectively speaking.

What is the density of interlacing liquid threads?

This has been a test. She said.

This is only the illusion of an endless whole and we're all striving for maximum legibility.

I'm not quite sure what that means. It's like he said: We create these things to give emotional texture to our lives.
I create to awaken the senses, to find an awareness stemming so deeply beyond the crux of the moment in a dream when you reach true lucidity.

We're fumbling. Falling through reality. Through space and time, and broken hearts. Broken clocks. Repaired frames and re framed pairings of ourselves and others.
Through fiction. Through the moment when you wake up in the morning and still wish you were sleeping.
Because it's within the solace of sleep you tread the purest stream of conscience.

This story unravels between our human bodies. Between our fallible, complicated, tragically beautiful little lives. And all you have to do is listen.

Listen to the moment when the reel stops feeding through, and the fiction lifts itself up. And the lines marking where this begins and that ends are blurred.
Transitions do exist.

Yet more often than not they are colored in grey hues. And muddy tones cloud over the vibrancy of life and light that are supposed to radiate…

Extreme choices.
Tiny fragments.
Where does the never-ending end?

They say a tangent is a digression. A digression, an aside, or more so, a parenthesis. And isn't the parenthesis the most significant accumulation?

This is where we’re supposed to focus.
Because within these tiny brackets we believe the deeper meaning rests…

This is about the work.
And the work is a parenthesis.
And this life… has been a test.


..............
A week from today I graduate from college. I graduate from college. Shea says this is the moment when you ask yourself, "now what?" And I say, start a blog? Sure, why not! I have to admit, I've always been the kind of introvert who preferred the feel of pen to paper. Something seems more authentic about recording my thoughts that way- like I'm creating a memory or a piece of correspondence in that moment. But there's something appealing about the readiness and efficiency of the digital inscription. And something alluring though slightly intimidating about sending your thoughts into the ether for others to find.

A week from today I graduate. I don't know why this feels like the moment to start a blog. I guess it just seems like everything is changing and evolving so quickly and I just don't want to miss any of it. Maybe here I can take some time to remember it all.

Andy Warhol once said: "Life is a series of images that change as they repeat themselves." So, there's a pretty good chance I've been here before. Only this time, it just looks different.