Time is mutable, or at least our perception of its flow is susceptible to the tremors of our hearts. It seems like several days ago that we went to the marathon, and I discovered the fantastic news about her boyfriend. The mind is a fragile thing, weak to the influence of perspective, prior experiences, and emotion.
Sorry to subject you to my bad philosophical ranting. Not sure what I’m trying to get out of this. Maybe some sort of catharsis. Actually, I don’t want a catharsis at all. Those are only in tragedies. This is certainly playing out like a comedy, at least for the external observer. Of course, it would make everything move a lot smoother if I were one also, another member of the crowd, in on the joke. Instead, I’m the guy in the spotlight, humiliated for the amusement of others. Please, enjoy my misery. Delight in my pain. Laugh, smile, chuckle, indulge yourself in the bliss which of some unknown face’s tears. Turn the pages, flip to the next story, move on with your lives. I’ll still be here, head on my hands, down on my knees, praying for something to change.
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