Looking through the looking glass.

He sat there, intentionally positioned with his back towards the world.  The reflection in the window shows the entire world behind him.  He sees himself, eye contact, however brief, and he penetrates the glass.  Below him, in the streets, were cars.  Exotic, expensive, luxurious cars.  He wishes... he envisions... soon, soon.  

"I just need $10,000.00 disposable to start." ~ J.H.

+o+o+o+

"You and me both."

"Yeah, those were the good ol' days.  I miss you feeding me." 

"The projector was awesome."

+0+0+0+

Are we ever going to get there?

There: The space between 'what was' and 'what could be.'

I was there once.  Usually, when you're there... you have no clue where you are.  It's when you moved on that you realize just where you were.  You were there... in that moment, you were there.  

It's not regret.  No not that.  It's not even nostalgia.  It's the moment, when you're caught up.  For some, time freezes.  For others it speeds uncontrollably.  It's fluid and static.  The fleeting 'There', for once you think you have arrived... you find you're not 'There' anymore....

There is the dream.

Excerpt from my journal: The Denver Layover 

(you're in for a treat... part of my working memoir...enjoi)

Flight 409 NY to Denver

I'm confused with thoughts of insecurities... self doubt.  It's not something I can escape.  I've tried many times over... I keep looking to the future... as if tomorrow will shine better... anew day, anew dawn, where behind I leave my pain.

She sits beside me.  Her thoughts, her world.  Long lashes. Smooth tan skin.  Fit.  Her hair in a slight pony tail.  

It never stops does it?  We as a being look to the future... my mind splinters between the here and now and the yet to be.  The "what if?" is drawing me away from this tangible world.  I grow dissatisfied with the man in the mirror.  I see the boy looking back.  His hopes.  His dreams.  Will he be disappointed?  Have I compromised so much... too much?

I feel the pressures of time.  As a child I dreamt BIG.  There was no other option... "Go BIG or go home."  Reality too cruel for a soul longing for peace.  I dreamt of Castles in the Sky... I dreamt of abstract notions like Truths, and Love.

I cannot seem to find it in my heart anymore... grief stricken.  My mind has already disengaged and the notion becomes nothing more than that... a notion... a child's dream.  Autopilot.  

Just give me a reason.  I need a cause.  

Can the boy grow up ?  No one grows up...

The stories just get more and more elaborate.