Five Points On Living Madly

1. The only thing somewhat eternal about the summer is the sadness that comes after. You miss the coast and the sand and skin so sun-kissed — little red sunburns bloomed all over it. You miss him, or her, or whomever it was that got you up when the moon was high, and moved you to blow out the saddest or sweetest song you knew below a thickly curtained bedroom window.

2. A blue whale’s heart is the size of a car. Perhaps this explains the way these whales find their soul mates through miles of deep blue lonely ocean — singing their watery love songs like sirens in the sea. Perhaps this is how you found yours, or someday will.

3. Unfortunately, love is not a bridge or railroad, it is a phone line — a connection which ends as soon as one grows weary of the conversation. Maybe yours lasted months — in love with all of the intimate swells in their voice, drizzling like rainwater, you felt like they were somebody you would never tire of. But you were wrong — perhaps everything ends.

4. Some religious folk never quite understand the way atheists believe in sunsets too. Think of the constellation of freckles on her left cheekbone, or creek-water relieving a forest’s thirst, or endless desert burning under sun— to me at least, these all seem far more beautiful as instances of magnificent chance than some tired rehearsal of God’s plan.

5. Since it is our pasts and futures which provide us with an understanding of the concept of time, the closest thing we’ve got to forever is the present. So open your eyes and let all ten million colors pour in and feel your veins become backwards streams. And forget about that line in the book you were once read as children, because living, now that is the awfully big adventure.