MonuMental

When life wants you to take notice it hits you with an impact, it lets you contrast one moment from the rest and take notice that something has changed, it’s arguable the fates reserve this means for rewards as promotional acceleration through transition for the generation of positive karma or even for the momentary transcendence to a state of existence where vibration is rapid, connection is absolute, and conscious is beyond visualization, when life decides to pass information right before your eyes yet wants you to be unaware, it does so by gradually introducing you to a new reality, the tree at the edge of your property dies so slowly it may have fallen before you notice anything different, as is this story, a good life is like warm breath on your neck that quickly dissipates with no trace, I once held the hand of an angel but at best it was fleeting, life was already an ice road so it didn’t really stand out when the wind began to blow, every specially formed snowflake is crafted from now broken molds, every drop of rain lands with an incalculable system of action, re-action, and at best is only matched with an accurate re-en-action from those that follow, the point being some-time is only able to occur one time, and the time of your life is not a time span of being “in” life but the moment you take notice you are “of” life, in ignoring the mourning of the loss of my love I had the moment that defined my reality and changed my life, and since I thought I survived that heart attack  I thought at this time I was still living, broken hearted and talking crazy I’d say “Today’s gonna be a good day”, my blood was once roasting, and then toasty, and though the gauges didn’t change, the warmth continued to escape the world like the break in the clouds was an open window in winter, and there it was, each day was the same just a little less, I thought I had survived that heart attack but now it’s been a long time since I’ve thought that, things started to go down, I paid attention to nothing but my feelings which is ironic because I didn’t notice how each year I felt a little less, my head got filled with anxieties, depression, and other words we refrain from using because it only draws attention that our own compass points right to them, I no longer stood out from the crowd, dwelling became strength and sex became weakness, we used to rally around at parties now no one likes the music, the wind continued to blow through my clothes, my skin, my eyes, I can’t think of how many times I wondered if this was my life, but it wasn’t as simple as that, I remember my heart gasping to breathe, I draw lines in the dirt where there is no dawn and no dusk, I walk in a place where it hurts to move but won’t allow me to be still, I rest just enough to remain tolerant and sustain my mind which is my only sense of feeling, I remain focused only to cultivate or possibly fabricate emotion, and as I learn this is more real than life I continue to move, and wait for the false, watch for a sunrise, or sunset, or something that looks like the morning has reached noon, can hell be this cold?, once warm kisses and breath blew on the back of my neck and brought summer to my shoulders, and there is no basis of knowing how long it’s been since then, we long for the past as if tomorrow could ever be yesterday, and with this realization the first warm glow glazed over my face and I knew what it was, this was yesterday’s tomorrow and the burst of reality couldn’t have been more clear