"An autobiography is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful. A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying....."
Friday, April 30, 2010
Gusto: Calvin Edition
There is the known and there is the unknown.
Ever since I was a kid, I wasn't much interested in the known.
I've been grinding for awhile now. Beating the same track as one might articulate.
I could sit quietly at my desk until sleep finally and fitfully arrives.
I don't even enjoy being out and about in the capacity that others do. I enjoy the steps carrying me toward a night out. I enjoy the potential for surprise. The monotony is the tithe paid for days on end until that moment which catches even the most jaded off guard, making one stop and pause with a sly grin voicing appreciation and acknowledgment that stones unturned remain for even the most avid rock collector.
A man out of time? Perhaps. A man living in a concrete jungle made antiseptic and sterile at nearly every turn? Likely. A man uncertain of the choice(s) to make? Yes. A man certain that one direction (forward) is the only one which feels compelling? Yes.