This Vs That

It’s so easy to be swept away, to get caught up in the moment and completely forget oneself. So many roads to walk down, but you only get one. So many stars alight in the heavens, and yet just one shines the brightest.

You’ll have to forgive my keen sense of the obvious, my not so subtle use of these long ago worn out bromides…

I’m somewhat new to this planet.

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Woke up this morning feeling all at once nostalgic and homesick. Sixteen hundred miles and over a decade away, the unbearable heat calls to me with it’s shrill voice. I’m not entirely sure which pang is stronger, the time or the distance.

Is this all we have left?

That phrase, that question haunts my every move and has a chilling effect.

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Don’t get me wrong. I am ever the optimist, and with all things considered, but therein lies the thread that once pulled might unravel the whole blanket. I pull it all the time. Yeah, sounded a bit risque to me too, but at least I know what I meant.

The tide quickly approaches the shoreline, but I have one more thing to say. Against all odds, and with my back to the wind… I plant my feet sourly on the ground, and…

the days do indeed go by without number

 

 

This vs that.

 

-I am Crandew

 

https://twitter.com/Crandew/status/938743891494400000

The Monsters Are Back on Maple Street

For years, we had all but forgotten about the monsters.

Do you remember the monsters? Those monsters. They tore apart poor Maple St without breaking a sweat (if monsters can even sweat that is). It was a test, you see, and we all failed… miserably. Just another silly test from the monsters.

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So caught up in our own lives, so lost behind the curtain of our day to day events that we failed to notice the signs all around us. How could this happen, again? We failed.

Correction.

I noticed (as I’m sure others did too) a while back, but we were all far too slow in deciphering its meaning. The monsters test. We failed.

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Constant finger pointing towards anyone who dared to think differently from the herd. Constant nagging, and self-righteous smugness from those who were so sure that they were in the right.

Aren’t we all so sure that we are the ones who are right?

The name calling! Holy crap! This might be the monsters greatest weapon. The calling of names runs rampant right now on Maple St, doesn’t it? Those monsters must love the calling of names, for they have us doing it all the time now.

 

The anger that hides, divides.

 

I noticed all these things building and building but failed to connect the dots. Those tiny dots that are at times so hard to see clearly. I knew that something was wrong, but couldn’t quite bring the picture into focus.

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The Monsters are back, and this time they won’t stay on Maple St.

 

 

-I am Crandew

 

https://twitter.com/Crandew/status/940914510847725568

Paltry

The days go by without number, and we are left clinging to that which remains.

A volcano, once erupted begins to cool down almost instantly. This may or may not be true… I care not.

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When confronted with change, we all cringe a little. It’s the fear of what’s to come that lightly taps us on the shoulder. That fear that nags at us, until we manage to push it back, lock it up and banish it. Oh the fear of what’s to come next.

There’s excitement as well, for sure… but that passes. A fleeting moment in time that has chosen to wrap us up before spitting us out. For one solitary shift in time, elation rules the midnight sky. Shifty, it leaves us as abruptly as it arrived.

Is this all we’ve become? A stitch in time that saved nine?

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A delicate blanket now covers the earth. Duplicitous at heart, it is at both warm and confining. It threatens all that could possibly be while providing an enticing cup of poison from which to sip, and our lives slowly drain away.

Is this what we’ve become?

I relax for just one second, and the earth spins on.

The days go by without number, and I am left desperately clinging to that which remains.

 

-I am Crandew

Breaking Day

My nature has always been clothed in hope, and sealed with a wish.

Like donning a warm coat before a cold winters day, I often hope that the future will shine brighter than the past. This isn’t always the case, but it’s a nice dream.

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Hope and wishes, for they crawl forward slowly… hand in hand. Don’t they?

I greet each day with a reverent silence. It breaks, and with a solitary hope for what might be, granted by a wish for things not yet fully realized.

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‘The day breaks quickly, but so do I.’

 

-I am Crandew

Blink

You’d think that only an old person could be so obsessed, so taken aback by the passage of time, right?

I hear you. It’s duly noted. You’re not wrong.

I’ll admit, I’m stretched a bit thin and across quite a few years now for sure.

Truth is… I’ve always had a wary eye on the clock.

I can’t help it. I count the seconds as they tick away, and realize that they’re never coming back. I try to freeze them, or advance more slowly frame by frame like with an old VHS cassette, but it never works out. Even smashing my watch against a wall has done nothing to curb this monstrous river of life.

 

Perhaps that’s why I’m drawn to old things, the past? Mayhaps I’m nothing more than an antiquity myself? There are worse things to be I suppose.

In the end, we do what we do… and I’m no exception to this rule. The seconds tick away, and I’m left wanting for more.

-I am Crandew

https://twitter.com/Crandew/status/935859810804879360

 

 

 

So Red The Rose

I was fortunate enough to catch the day break.

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Woke up with these lyrics playing gently in the background…

Those tears on a gaping voice
Who’s stretching arms match the hunger of mine
There lips will they never join
But always draw me closer and further entwined
With a promise dealer understand all freedoms fade away
To a point of view where many different pathways meet
And we’re standing on this precipice with nothing much to gain save
But the deep blue screams of falling dreams with our next move
Heaven hide your eyes
Heaven’s eyes will never dry
The shades of a thousand steel
Come flashing by my face in the fury of war
In desolation and abandoned fields
The hungry make their stand when they’ll stand for no more
Hear the passion in their voices see the heaven in their eyes
Their hopes and schemes are waiting dreams of less than paradise
And sometimes we make promises we never mean to keep
For blackmail is the only deal a promise dealer sees
Heaven hide your eyes
Heaven’s eyes will never dry

I feel very fortunate indeed, to have known the beauty that is Arcadia:

-I am Crandew