Going Somewhere

He may be moving slow,
But that don't mean he's going nowhere.

- Norah Jones, Broken

Perhaps I am still searching for something; I don't know. Something magical - a miracle - a shooting star - a supernova. Adam was ready to offer me a life. I chickened out and left. Garrett said he doesn't want to be unobserved, he wants to live to be seen. I told him I'd seen him. I haven't heard from him since. Aaron hoped we'd get along. I offered him optimism then turned down our first meeting. So the cycle goes on, goes on - we go on chasing shooting stars, dropping everything behind us, running on ahead like carefree boys, running to catch the wind.

Van Gogh said: "There may be a great fire in our soul, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke." We are all misunderstood creatures. We cannot reach the divine road that leads to Paradise. In a way, Dean Moriarty knew inside him what a wastrel he was, who only knew to giggle, to laugh. He had the chance to settle, but he too cannot reach that road. (Isn't it ironic then that he should go with Sal Paradise.) So he ran from life, and he ran from running from life. It wasn't life that frightened him, no. He only knew to run.

We're all going somewhere. Someday, if we're lucky to live long enough to see it, we'll know where.