We want to know what
we don’t know, or hadn’t thought of,
or forgot.
What mattered then,
or what mattered when, shifts over time.
We notice.
Perception is what you don’t see.
Deception is what know.
You see it differently through your aloneness.
The truth behind a lie,
you question how and why.
It made sense.
Anticipation keeps us waiting
for only so long. Will it matter
if you felt it never did?
© 2021 j.g. lewis
Slow down: even with the ideas that come to quicky. Take the time to acknowledge the feelings that arrive, as they arrive.
Write it down. How else will you remember what you were thinking?
Print neatly. You hardly understand the thoughts at the time, why make it more difficult to comprehend weeks or years from now?
Follow your own logic; only you need to truly make sense of what is happening, or all that has happened.
Pay attention to the lessons of the past. Be mindful that not all are worth repeating.
Clarity. Make corrections as you go. Flaws become more difficult to correct the longer you live with them.
11/14/2024 j.g.l.
I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
There is that slight period of time after you wake, as the rest of the city remains undisturbed in comfortable beds, where you find your own comfort in being wherever you are.
For moments or minutes, there is balance. The equilibrium disturbed by yesterday’s issues and longstanding gripes has settled or been mentally misplaced. For now, today is only space on the calendar. For the time being, only now matters.
It is a starting point as night turns into day. Mentally, spiritually, even hypothetically, it is where you are. Stay there for as long as you can. Soon enough, disquiet and confusion, office politics, idle chatter and unwanted opinions will scrape the patina off the time you allow yourself.
Make this moment your own.
08/23/2024 j.g.l.
I’m like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
