When I was younger, I dreamed of impossible things.
They were wonderful, and brilliant, and fantastic,
(but they were impossiblethings)
and i knew it and that was fine.

Now, I dream of when I was younger.
when home wasn't a word i had to ponder the meaning of,
when the worst thing that could happen was falling off my bike,
when countries and cultures and people blended together
and i wasn't a roadblock, caught in the middle.

People say, "Live in the moment."
i don't want to
"Enjoy life,"
i can't, always, and --
"it doesn't last."
i know.

I know I'll look back, someday, and
I know I'll dream of this.
of cicadas chirping in the summer,
of trains rushing past every twelve minutes,
of the silence, and the waiting,
the eye that came before the storm.

I know.

but regrets?
i've had a few.
they say not to linger on them,
they say the past is just the past, they say,
remember the past so you can learn from your mistakes.


That's my excuse, and
it's true, too.

so i guess, what i'm trying to say,
is that i
can't live
in the moment;
the moment
will burn my soul and solder me to ashes,
but i can live through *it, this way,
and then, someday,
when everything gets infinitely worse,
i'll remember this with something like fondness.