restless

restless. my heart is yearning i can hear. but for what. i ask and i try assemble the puzzles. i keep writing as i used to be but then i suddenly noticed my writing rhythm way too rapid. i listen to George Winston's but his recital seems so full too intense tonight. for sure i must know why everything turns unfit tonight. at the same time i wrote this sentence i doubt though.

exasperated. breathless.

my last out is still in the books maybe. anyway why not.

"The moment she (author's new-born baby daughter) grabbed my finger, it hit me that someday I'll have to say good-bye to her."

It' a blessing. It's a curse. It's what you get for saying hello to people. At some point, a good-bye is coming, too. Not just to all the people you love and who love you back, but to the world as well.

I loved being a business leader, but then the day came when I could be that man no more. Before the light in my mind faded and the shadows lengthened too much for me to see anymore, I chose at least, at last, to be master of my farewell.

"Chasing Daylight - How My Forthcoming Death Transformed My Life" (Eugene O'Kelly)

like when i connected to the author's mindset. and when i recognize every single word would be just true. i almost caught a glimpse of peace, whereas i almost forgot the pseudo-esthetes wandering around.

let it flow. keep me in books please.