My life as a Metaphor

My life is a metaphor for something, I just don't know what that metaphor is... Swirling and floating along all the while connected through the type of work I do. Drifting from one experience to the next. I'd be lying if I told you that I was hitting every high along the way, lows are as frequent during my journey as those beautiful cliff top peaks. You have to learn to find beauty in that darkness as well, the darkness of those valleys.

Even the lowest marshlands serve their purpose. Looking out the window I see multiple worlds staring back. My eyes are one pane of that realm, a window (mostly one sided) from my head to the physical world. I sit in front of an actual window right now, looking at a homeless man sitting on a bench down there by the road. His world and mine are miles apart however right now unbeknown to him we are sharing something even if it is only one way in a voyeuristic sense to me and he is unknowing in his role.

Next comes the life around me, the people colliding in their words, their bodies, and their thoughts. Some collisions bring union as one person finds a connection with one another. Others bring conflict as personalities clash over things that are mostly nonexistent. Mere thoughts in one's head, inflections of the voice and the posture of the body.

I play a game in times like this. My head harbors secret thoughts about those around me, ideas and stories about who they are and what kind of life they live. That man alone at the end of the bar, he keeps checking his phone, texting with someone and drinking his beer oblivious to the game going on next to him. He appears as lonely as I feel right now.

The three friends at the bar next to him look like they are mixing the secrets to the universe with the friendly banter of the young. They stack their empty glasses into pyramids and look serious as they try to hold back their smiles, the smiles of the young and naive who (as I said before) believe they know some secret to the universe. I know this because I too once believed I knew that wise bit of knowledge which seems so allusive to most adults. It is merely the ideas of youth. Age and experience bring wisdom. I have seen 20 year old men in Iraq who have lived lives more tattered and worn than old men I had met.

My thoughts for today, take them with a grain of salt or take them to heart...