Keith told me you are a leap child. Does that mean-
That time is a human concept that doesn't affect how our body behaves? That Earth doesn't care where the sun rises first and last? That the sun was rising and setting long before humans decided to start counting how many times it happened before the ground was too cold for farming? And that it will keep rising and setting even when all the clocks stop and all the calendars are burned, until the sun explodes in a super nova, eating our solar system with it? That, despite being born in a day that happens only ever 4 years in our fragile system, my body and mind still grew normally, completely unaware that my birthday technically didn't happen, and so I'm still older then you? That in the end it doesn't matter, for we all will have the same end, embraced in the cold arms of death?
It’s sad how the month of love could turn into the month of loneliness, how first day of February gets you thinking about your last lover, how every other day leading up to the 14th makes you consider reaching out to them, eats your mind and chops your heart with thoughts of calling them, but you still hold back for the fear of their response, their rejection, but once that clock turns to 12 and that calendar page flips to 14, you just drop down and feel the paralysis of power, so you hold your phone up and uncontrollably dial that most familiar number and start stuttering, you sense the weakness in your voice and the fragility in your palms, you watch that whole time you were alone right infront of your eyes, you remember the nights you needed them the most but still got up and moved on, you remember how hard you worked on yourself and you remember how you’ve been doing just a tiny bit fine without them, so you hang up and hate yourself for ruining all your efforts, and then you curse yourself for the rest of the second month of that new year
I will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before that, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar mark the passage of time, except for the clocks that people have forgotten to wind and the calendars that people have forgotten to place in a highly visible area. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from skim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and no matter how I am discovered after what happens to me happens to me as I am discovering this. I will love you if you don’t marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else – your co-star, perhaps, or Y., or even O., or anyone Z. through A., even R. although sadly I believe it will be quite some time before two women can be allowed to marry – and I will love you if you have a child, and I will love you if you have two children, or three children, or even more, although I personally think three is plenty, and I will love you if you never marry at all, and never have children, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all, and I must say that on late, cold nights I prefer this scenario out of all the scenarios I have mentioned. That… is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way.
The wall clocks at my parents are multiplying to dangerous levels already. Pendulum swings and mechanical clicks, bells and whistles every half hour, there’s no way you can sleep in this vintage exhibition room which happens to be also the guest room. Unless you wait until the rest of the house starts snoring then sneak behind every one of these doomsday devices and, slowly but with a steady hand, keep its pendulum in place until smothered it gives up clicking and chiming. Twenty five kills later it’s finally off to beddy byes… but don’t worry, there are another ten or so clocks in the rest of the house, no risk time would stop flowing. And no, I didn’t make up the numbers and the pictures above should prove it. You’ll notice above also a beer photo, nothing extraordinary here I know, but worth mentioning as I had it already half a year beyond its expiry date. Vintage beers deserve to go down the drain most of the time but this Zăganu IPA pulled out a nice surprise. A Romanian brew originally of fairly fine quality turned with age into a Berliner weisse impersonator: fruity and tart, fizzy almost gushing, refreshing and still bitter… fully enjoyable and not only for the surprise factor.
So, I am currently 100 followers away from 2000, and to celebrate I’m going to do a follower giveaway from my RedBubble store
These are the current works I have in my shop portfolio (if there’s anything in my art tag you want in my store, let me know)
5 people will win a choice between any t shirt / tank top, iphone / samsung phone case, poster, print, calendar, pillow, mug, notebook (spiral or hardcover), tote bag, studio pouch, clock or assorted collection of stickers
MUST be following me - it is a follower give away after all!
Reblog this post to spread the word
If you don’t want to be entered but can spread the word, reblog with “#boost only”
Winners will be drawn when my follower count hits 2000. When that will be, I can’t say, but I’ll let you know when I’m close. Follow the tag K6034comp to see updates
Must be comfortable with sending me your name and address so I can send the prizes over
Must have messaging system open to be contacted with or some kind of way of contacting you
I will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before than, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar marks the passage of time, except for the clocks that people have forgotten to wind and the calendars that people have forgotten to place in a highly visible area.
“ But some things can’t be measured by time. Ask me an hour from now. Ask me a month from now. A year, ten years, a lifetime. The way I love you will outlast every calendar, clock, and every toll of every bell that will ever be cast.”
You hear crying from the private library room. Sometimes you try to reserve it. It’s always full, and when you turn your back, the crying picks up. The lights are never on.
You don’t remember the last time you left the library. It says on your calendar ‘go home,’ ‘eat,’ ‘shower,’ none of them are ever checked off, when you go to check them off, the page turns, and you look up.
There are dogs on campus, posters and posters of dogs, to “destress,” to “pet.” It is always in quotations, no one is heard from again when they go to pet the dogs.
You are surrounded by books, stacks and stacks that encompass you, everytime you blink your eyes, there are more. You put out a sign that says ‘help,’ there are more books.
It’s been two weeks, the calendar says ‘two days’ but you know, you watched the clock on your hand, it goes past the 24 hours, and they tell you ‘only three more days.’ It’s been three weeks.
Someone asks to borrow your pencil for the test, you turn around and their eyes are empty. You realize you don’t have a pencil either, you write in blood and give yourself a bright red A at the top. The person behind says ‘they never fail, they never fail.’
someone tells you people are graduating, people are partying, there is vodka in the water and the walls smell like weed. When you ask who is graduating it’s always ‘Dave,’ ‘Rick, ‘Sandy.’ No one knows a Dave or Rick or Sandy. But Dave is graduating, there is vodka in the water fountain.