absent birds

there was this spare second as i was getting into my car today as the sun shone. i immediately and instinctively put that moment away in my memory as a moment that needs written of. there are these moments like this that you run into intermittently that just seem more full than others. i want to pursue these moments as passionately as i don't want to pursue some kind of career. why do these moments seem so important. it occurs to me that maybe it's because i'm vacant for those few seconds. i'm doing something habitually and my mind's free for once to close it's eyes and let me see what's in front of me unskewed, undirected.

it makes me want the restrictive bonds of habit and tradition in a way. racing to be first doesn't seem so important to me anymore, however it still is in my habit to act like that when presented with the appeasing situation.

it's a fine line right now between dropping my competitive drive (which wasn't socially created necessarily) and accepting where i'm at. i don't want to be where i'm at because it's not secure for the future but anyway i hate hate where this has gone.

fuck this.

it was about that moment. the moment was unexplainable in the sense that there was nothing fancy about it so i could only describe it simply as it was. a simple description that you might read in first grade to teach you grammar or spelling, so it doesn't seem like it can be explained with flair. great moments seem like they should be written of with great flair. or so this one had thought before.

the car was hot to the touch glinting brightly in the sun. the man looked downwards at the black tar parking lot, green grass and the corner of a red building. the heat surrounded the man so that he felt like he was in a tiny room. he felt like he'd been standing there forever, until that thought occurred to him.