I Drove Quickly, Too Late To Save The Dying Day

The way to happiness is to accept you won’t always be happy.  The way to beauty is to accept you won’t always be beautiful. The way to perfection is to accept you won’t ever be perfect.

We know nothing lasts, that everything ends, and when it does end something swallows us up. We long for that, parallel with or even in lieu of good experiences, as though the realization of an expectation is satisfying and desirable even if the expectation is of a painful experience. We feel the catharsis and calming effect of that pain so we can finally enjoy the pleasures of life with abandon, free from lurking shadows.

Sometimes there is no better release than to simply scream obscenities in the privacy and dark of my automobile, driving west with the windows down and music playing loud, daring the sun to set. The glow from the dashboard gives the feeling of control, illuminating instruments that can direct and instruct, that have tangible results, that have a tactile and visceral effect in the orange glow. Simultaneously, it casts shadows and ghosts, reflecting off the glass in all directions, causing questions to arise in my imperfect flared vision. The colors drain from the sky slowly but unmistakably, no matter how fast I go. The crimson hues bleed out from this day, and I watch it die helplessly. The motion and the music are my mother and father, and the wind streaming and swirling between the windows and through my lungs is their unbridled love for me.

In that moment, I am comforted. I barely exist, but I am here, with just enough feeling to vindicate my existence, and just enough sound to countenance my voice. Hundreds of miles away is an ocean that catches the bleeding daylight.  I can see it by the glow of the moon, and touch it with my unclothed body, and taste its saline when I slide my tongue across my lips, but in so many ways I will never realize the opportunity to completely immerse myself within its waters.

It’s never the things we know about, and try, and fail at. It’s the things that no one ever tells us about, things that we never get a chance to know. If we’re lucky enough we may happen upon them by accident, and upon this discovery we curse humanity for keeping its secrets.

 

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21 thoughts on “I Drove Quickly, Too Late To Save The Dying Day”

      1. Well actually, it reminded me of a really short story I wrote a while ago, about that feeling of having left the room during the telling of something, of missing something…i just wondered if you were writing about something specific or a general state of life events?
        And I also noticed a while ago that you used comments in your posts, I am guessing other people have noticed too, but don’t comment for different reasons. I think I didn’t because I felt like I was commenting too much on your posts at one time! I have sometimes written comments on other blogs that I liked way more than my posts and thought I should make something more of it. Inspiration can be anywhere! But then I wondered if it would take away from the moment somehow with that person on their blog. I probably over thought it, then got distracted and forgot about it haha.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. It’s spontaneity that sometimes makes a good idea. So I do it occasionally. More often lately because I’m reading lots of thought provoking and smart people lately.
          I only use my own comments. I’ve used a line from a comment in a post before, but some of the latest ones are all comments and additions to them. I wondered if it would take away from the moment also, but decided it adds to the moment for a person to know they inspired me.

          Keep comments coming, V. As many as you like, and whatever length you like. I like your comments. πŸ™‚

          Liked by 1 person

    1. The day is a phoenix, rising from its own ashes the next morning. But just like fall is the most beautiful season, twilight is the most beautiful time of day. The times before death are the most stunning.
      And we’re always in a time before death.

      Liked by 2 people

  1. Ok so…are we supposed to like…say that we notice your last handful of posts are largely made up of snippets from comments? I feel like it’s a Where’s Waldo game. A treasure hunt that you didn’t sign up for, hidden in plain sight. It’s either that or an in-joke, a regular thing you do that I’m just new to? and indeed curse you life for keeping shit secret from me!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You’re the first to notice. It’s a cruel trick of life that I often write better stuff in comments than I do when I try to just write things beginning to end. It’s an inspirational thing I think. I did add to the comments in some of them.
      I am gobsmacked that you noticed, though. Not a lot of people notice things like that.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Cruel? nahhh. if it comes easy for you that’s awesome. i have to contemplate a lot for anything good to come out. yes of course you added a ton more stuff than just comments. i was just busting balls. also, how many points do i get for noticing? i also accept smileys.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. I’ll give you smileys. πŸ˜€πŸ˜ŠπŸ˜‰πŸ˜±πŸ˜·πŸ˜«πŸ˜ͺπŸ‘Ή

          My kind is a black box. I put things in, and things come out, and I don’t know how it works. But it does.

          Like

  2. Also, this reminded me of a poem that I know by heart. It’s about all beautiful things fading out (spring, flowers, trees, the Garden of Eden, and the sun setting. everything in life that started off innocently, eventually turns to shit or withers. I don’t want to agree with it but it haunts me sometimes.) You’re either gonna roll your eyes because it’s already so well known or you’re gonna be like oh I love it and never heard it. I’ll take that risk. Throw caution to the wind. Ahem:

    Nature’s first green is gold,
    Her hardest hue to hold.
    Her early leaf’s a flower,
    But only so an hour.
    Then leaf subsides to leaf,
    So Eden sank to grief,
    So dawn goes down to day,
    Nothing gold can stay.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haha… I’ve never heard it. I love it. so there.
      I agree with it, though. Everything dies, but is reborn. Days, plants, seasons, and people. They’re usually not really dead, just moving through the cycle.
      I used the metaphor of an upward spiral in a post about 120 posts ago, in which each loop of the spiral allowed you to see the same things over and over from a higher and newer perspective, which changes those past events each time.
      In other words, I am saying the past is not immutable, and in fact it changes just as much as the future does, if not more so.
      And, this is the kind of comment I was talking about! I couldn’t have just come up with this. My words are like plants, that need water and food and grafts and cultivation to grow. Otherwise, they’re conifers. Evergreen, but only interesting around the holidays. haha!

      Liked by 1 person

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