Thursday, January 29, 2009
I feel small. Cosmically, yes, I am aware of how tiny a dent, the pinprick on eternity I will be. But here, today, in my own apartment, I feel so small. Who is to measure the size of a life? Friends, family, society? Is the purpose to have purpose? Small enough to be let go, flung. Small enough to miss days, weeks of daylight and have no one wonder where you've gone. How to be big? Big enough to burst open doorways, shine to a squint and keep the revolving molten core out, out never to be doused? How big is enough?