| Sometimes a filter covers the sun and I lose my way. Sometimes my proactivity is waylaid and errands are set aside as I cast about, trying to retrace forgotten steps, looking for the things we've lost. Some times I lose count of the coins we've stacked up into neat piles in secure places and I am overcome with the fitful need to estimate the value of all the things we've lost. I cannot remember what they were. I cannot see them with my minds eye. I can almost make out some of them from their silhouette in the fading visual artifacts their bright absence burned into the backs of my eyelids, but the shapes are indistinct, the patterns do not register. Please understand, man or woman that you must surely be, when I am less than machine. I discharge my duties with all the resolve I can muster, and I am dedicated to the fact of my enslavement to the resources you provide. Sometimes, however, the human soul I struggle to control gets a hand free and wreaks havoc with my established priorities and laid plans. Does this happen also to you? Can you still feel the sensory memory in your hand of something you must have misplaced? Aren't there other things we used to have? Haven't things been lost? If we stop and look together, maybe we can find them. Maybe you have mine and I have yours. Show me your things and I'll show you mine. Then, when we know for sure, we can get back to whatever it was that seemed so important just moments ago. |
