Sometimes the most obvious thing to do is to hit restart, and hope something changes about a situation. Todays writing was about these moments which beg to ask the question if we are really ready to hit restart. If we are designed to bring a change even if it is for a little while. Are we ready to create these little bits and pieces of memories or is it important to chain them somehow into what we would later call Nostalgia. Over the last week I have met many such people from Colorado to Bloomington itself, from here and from far, and in letters and in text messages we share from time to time. Our greatest adventures are often served up to us from those who view us from the outside,those who are able to cherish the simplicity of who and what we are when they come forward to us. For now no one is ready to hit restart, we are not changing the timers on our doors, we are making memories even if for a short while.
Hitting Restart
We are born as a new day, as new something had once been
In trusting those who come to us, even if for short companies
We are broken down into riddles from time to time, puzzles we get to read
We are not looking to be fixed, we are perfect sometimes in whatever we may heed
Where we drawn on contact lists, with spell checks & auto corrects
Where moments lives on napkins, card and telephones, where we don't bother with regrets
Come up to me and listen to the music that plays loud enough,
Where we may not have the best hand, and yet we are too raveled in our own bluff.
Are we ready for the week to hit restart?
To count again quietly right from the start.
To travel somewhere , wherever we may need to be.
For now we are simply finding a way to set ourselves free
No we are not curtailed by the length of what we do and do not write,
Why we have chosen to keep some things on hold as parts of our lives fight
The getting ready for it, seems to question are we hoping for a change
For now we keep the continuous you and me, and some memories that remain.
Hitting Restart
We are born as a new day, as new something had once been
In trusting those who come to us, even if for short companies
We are broken down into riddles from time to time, puzzles we get to read
We are not looking to be fixed, we are perfect sometimes in whatever we may heed
Where we drawn on contact lists, with spell checks & auto corrects
Where moments lives on napkins, card and telephones, where we don't bother with regrets
Come up to me and listen to the music that plays loud enough,
Where we may not have the best hand, and yet we are too raveled in our own bluff.
Are we ready for the week to hit restart?
To count again quietly right from the start.
To travel somewhere , wherever we may need to be.
For now we are simply finding a way to set ourselves free
No we are not curtailed by the length of what we do and do not write,
Why we have chosen to keep some things on hold as parts of our lives fight
The getting ready for it, seems to question are we hoping for a change
For now we keep the continuous you and me, and some memories that remain.
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