Dear World,
Why have you come to my door, unassembled, demanding that I do something with you? I know you’re at all the doors, asking this of everyone, all the time, but this is not about them. They don’t come into this. This is about you and me.
Do you remember that thing Billy Bragg sang?
“The temptation to take the precious things we have apart, to see how they work, must be resisted for they never fit together again.”
I sang along and loved him so much for his insight. Then one day, I woke and I realised his romantic notion papered over the facts that every moment is precious, pulled apart by the next and there’s never ever any going back.
So now, there you stand, demanding I make irreversible decisions. Path of wreckage behind me and no clear path ahead.
Cruel, cruel World, could you manage maybe a guiding star?
Cam
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