Data Dump

Well hello again Internet, did you miss me?
I hope so, I missed you, after a fashion anyway.

So yeah, down to brass tacks, I've no clue where to start, where I'm going or where this will end, I just know that I need to write right the frackin hell now, or my mind will pack up it's things, take the chillens and leave me forever.


Eight months, sixteen days, four months, two and one half years, two weeks, six years, five days, fifteen hours, one year, six months...

Time is the one all-powerful constant intangible, undeniable, variable and measure that remains outside of both our direct control and total understanding. How old is the earth really? A few thousand years or a few trillion? Billion? Zillion?
Or the stars? Rocks? Air? Water?
How long will I live? Or you? Or the car?

Time marches on, and in the grand scale of this universe, it would seem that our lives are but a particle on a atom on the molecule in the elements that make up the water in a bucket lost in the vastness of the middle of an endless sea of time and space that reality and existence as we know it seem to be, and yet we still mark our petty little specks of time with a religious fervor that numbs itself and us with a disturbing ease.
Do you have the time? What time is it? It's time to eat! I don't have time for this! Who's time are you on? She's living on Tulsa time...

And yet time is the bedrock that the roadway of life is built upon, as sure as you are reading this and I am thinking this up to type for you to read, establishing a relationship of writer/poet/author/thinker/philosopher/blogger and reader/critic/fan/thinker/troll, based upon the choices to write, and to read, exampling the core essence of why the universe works, while enjoying the how.

Choices, decisions, relationships, cause and effect.

Time. Too much or too little, it's always there, and I for one am currently SICK of it.

December 27th will be when I get my girl back where she belongs, into my arms, if only for a short time, and I could stand for life to stop tossing me curve balls tween now and then, and for time to move faster dammit.

My heart grows sick with the cold simmer of separation, and the pangs of absence.

More on the heart next time when I'm not feeling so spaced and bitchy and grumpy.

Live. Love. Endure.
~Caleb