We don't have these moments often, but every once and awhile it accrues.And we know that it's it. Sadly we can't pick when we want these moments to happen.Most of the time they cause some form of conflict: an emotional imbalance...a physical malfunction...a musical lapse...an artistic black out...a writers block...
These moments are beautiful, rare, so young and virgin I fear to explore them deeply, but my curiosity is too strongly commanding and i slide my hand down further. Further down...and down this moment until I hit something. And I can't look.I am not brave enough, just curious. So i take a little peek. I open my eyes enough to see that it never fails.
Anytime I adventure for myself I wound someone in my camp.I know CPR, but i can only swim with the weight of your demands for long. And then the music starts. I smile. The ballad is not a ballad after all. I expected the horrid revival folk.Stumbling I got my hands full, full of a smooth melody.
Sadly we cannot pick when these moments happen. We cannot keep them on a continuous path so nothing damages the packaging.So the song does not end; the lyrics never stop. We don't leave.At least not yet.
I can only apologize so much in my life time.I fear I might forget what I am suppose to regret if I start to early.We all want to do things for ourselves and ourselves solely, but...Do we?
Let me try to make this moment mine and when its over, and I am standing when it's finished the way I was sitting when it started, the regret can start. But not now. Not before a stanza is read, or before the line is finished, or before the piano sounds and the voice sings and everything else it too simple and inconsequential and nothing matters but the voice....never before that.
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