Thursday, July 19, 2007

"Rejoicing", by Duane Cash


What do you do when you suddenly have the feeling that reality is way, way more amazing than you ever realized? When you see that you’ve been living with a blindfold on, almost totally ignorant of the infinite magnificence of life? When you feel like you’ve just awakened to find yourself in paradise? Every now and then I get that feeling, and last night was one of those times. I felt like I was surrounded by beauty and majesty, and yet I was just in my small apartment on Granite Street. I felt like every moment was one of absolute perfection, and yet it was merely another Wednesday evening in July. There seemed to be an endless supply of power available to me, and yet I was only a slumped and flabby 65-year-old man. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. I wanted to set out walking for miles and miles. I wanted to call many people. I wanted to sing old songs as loud as possible. Instead of that, I simply walked back and forth in my living room, watching the twilight darken and smiling at my good fortune.

--Thursday, July 19, 2007

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