Crescendo

Feels like we’re building up to something in life. Like it’s all going to come to some sort of spectacular head any minute now and blow its load all over the world. Initially, I was hoping that apex would be televised with 5 little while balls floating in a drum and me fainting from the fright of sheer, unadulterated joy.

The only thing that’s blown is the lightbulb next to my bed. I can’t read at night now, unless its backlit by this laptop, and I was just getting back into reading again.

But I don’t think we’re building up to anything, or at least, I’m not aware of building up to anything. Hope there’s a climax. Hope it’s a surprise. Hope it’s a good surprise. One that doesn’t involve blood or pain or wet balls of lint, cigarette butts, or someone’s ripped out weave.

It doesn’t take much to surprise me though; I’m surprised when I wake up and still have a job, or a client does what they’re supposed to, or we don’t have to fight amongst ourselves at the site. Yet I’d like a different kind of surprise for once, one that’s good in a positivist sense and not just a novelty in that it’s not absolute shit anymore.

After all: Who doesn’t love a surprise without blood, pain, lintballs, or weave remnants?

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