Colours

Not that long ago, I was on the treadmill, my heart already pumping from a combination of will and the exhiliration of a potential new flame. "Desire" by Ozzy Ozbourne was returned to me by shuffle mode. My trot turned into an outright gallop, and I added 30 minutes to the run.

There is something compelling about human interconnectedness. I tried to leave the door open, if not to pick things up where they were left off, then simply to maintain a friendship.


Leonard Cohen always has something to say for times like these:
"It is hard to hold the hand of anyone who is reaching to the sky just to surrender"

or maybe even

"The duty of lovers is to tarnish the golden rule."


As the last wisps blew into the wind last week, I found myself hoping this impression is wrong, that maybe we'll all grow beyond this. "Desire" came on, and instead of evoking the memory of last time, it brought me into the present. "Victim of Changes" (Whiskey Woman) came on next, and there couldn't have been a more fitting coda to the whole episode.