An altered state of mind, or just to tired to see things as they were or might be...
I stepped out the door of work, alone in the AM as the night had finally gave up it's fight against the dawn, retreating in tattered shreds before the intrusive light. In the wake of it's battle the sky remained troubled and fragmented.
Looking up at the sky reminded me of the dunes and tide of my home, many miles and years away; my childhood spent on the surf looking at the desolate ripples of wind tossed sand dunes and shallow eddying water, the clouds ragged and patterned in a waterlogged Escher-esque pattern into the horizon and eternity.
It matched my mood, somber, serene and just a tad desolate, the quiet and the cold whipped over me as I took another drag off of the first of to many cigarettes for the day; I'm still thinking way to much about things that should mean to damn little. I'm looking for some meaning and a little peace of mind, maybe a sign that something, anything might change whether for the better or the worse as long as things begin to move again.
The feeling of stagnation is doing little for my sanity.
And then from nowhere against the shaded pastel wasteland of the new day skies, two black birds, crows by the look and sound, possibly ravens, winged across over where I stood as if in answer to my musings.
They bobbed and weaved, oblivious of all but each other & the winds on their wings, dancing across, up and over one another in a chaotic, yet synchronized dance.
It seemed like an omen of sorts. It did oddly make an impression that is still lingering, but unlike the usual signs of doom they are associated with, it didn't feel negative, just lonely and troubled, but not hopeless. Unity in discord, darkness and hope, it just made me feel... well just feel.
The older I get the more signs and vibes mean to me, seeing as some come to pass and I seem to pick up on some things that I'm never told out loud anyway
Maybe I am mental, but I'm going with it, there's not much else to do but grasp on what toeholds I can in a world where the rules seem to change if they ever really existed. I don't think they are "rules" per se, more of the well worn ruts the ones before us have set that we just assume to be "The Way..." It's easier.
It was a moment, a minor one, but a moment,
and then it was time to walk back into the station, time to pass a little more time till the next situation and/or life event.
Omens and portents, now if only I can figure out what, if anything they might mean.
Or maybe I just need more sleep, coffee and meaning.
I stepped out the door of work, alone in the AM as the night had finally gave up it's fight against the dawn, retreating in tattered shreds before the intrusive light. In the wake of it's battle the sky remained troubled and fragmented.
Looking up at the sky reminded me of the dunes and tide of my home, many miles and years away; my childhood spent on the surf looking at the desolate ripples of wind tossed sand dunes and shallow eddying water, the clouds ragged and patterned in a waterlogged Escher-esque pattern into the horizon and eternity.
It matched my mood, somber, serene and just a tad desolate, the quiet and the cold whipped over me as I took another drag off of the first of to many cigarettes for the day; I'm still thinking way to much about things that should mean to damn little. I'm looking for some meaning and a little peace of mind, maybe a sign that something, anything might change whether for the better or the worse as long as things begin to move again.
The feeling of stagnation is doing little for my sanity.
And then from nowhere against the shaded pastel wasteland of the new day skies, two black birds, crows by the look and sound, possibly ravens, winged across over where I stood as if in answer to my musings.
They bobbed and weaved, oblivious of all but each other & the winds on their wings, dancing across, up and over one another in a chaotic, yet synchronized dance.
It seemed like an omen of sorts. It did oddly make an impression that is still lingering, but unlike the usual signs of doom they are associated with, it didn't feel negative, just lonely and troubled, but not hopeless. Unity in discord, darkness and hope, it just made me feel... well just feel.
The older I get the more signs and vibes mean to me, seeing as some come to pass and I seem to pick up on some things that I'm never told out loud anyway
Maybe I am mental, but I'm going with it, there's not much else to do but grasp on what toeholds I can in a world where the rules seem to change if they ever really existed. I don't think they are "rules" per se, more of the well worn ruts the ones before us have set that we just assume to be "The Way..." It's easier.
It was a moment, a minor one, but a moment,
and then it was time to walk back into the station, time to pass a little more time till the next situation and/or life event.
Omens and portents, now if only I can figure out what, if anything they might mean.
Or maybe I just need more sleep, coffee and meaning.