On with it, I’m just a spectator.

I can’t remember which music video it was.

There’s a man standing in the middle of a street, in the middle of a busy intersection, in the middle of the city that never sleeps. He’s staring straight into the camera lens, expressionless, save for his eyes that tell a tiring tale to those willing to listen, and people, cars, and more people pass him by like hoards of swarming bees with only one sweet, sticky mission. This effect is amplified by the fact that they are shown in fast-forward mode – except for the man. The man exists in real time. All while the sun sets, rises, then ultimately sets again behind his darkening silhouette. I remember I was really drawn by this scene for some reason.

It’s now midway into the second month of this year. Truth be told, there’s been lots of movement in my life in the past month and a half. I found a new job, a new house, new friends. Signed up for an art class because I finally convinced myself to dust off my book of “to do’s” that seems to have inadvertently and without my consent, changed into a book of “will never find time to do’s”. I also held my new baby niece in my arms and felt my heart flutter a bit when she opened her beautiful eyes and smiled at me for the very first time. Went on some trips, sang in front of some people, began my what will no doubt be an arduous and trying journey towards mushroom tolerance.

But at the same time, bigger truth be told, I sometimes feel like the man in the unnamed music video. Stationed in the middle of a swarm of activity and buzz. All around me there is life and engagement, people and places and things, conversations, schedules, sensations, and overall a constant flow of life. Yet, at times, I feel somewhat detached from this flow, as though I’ve stepped away from the racetrack and decided instead to be a non-participating spectator. When everything and everyone else is whizzing by in fast forward, I’m still standing there. And nothing has changed. It’s an eerie and dampening feeling.

Hm.

My entries are weird…

Anyway, on a complete different, less-weird note.

A word of advice to mister mystery man. I no longer work at the Key West office. Also, I’m more of a white rose kind of girl but granted it was valentines day, I was quite pleased with the rather pleasant-to-look-at addition to my new, still-empty desk. I hope you are a stalker. I kinda want one of those…