For Old Friends

For Old Friends | jh

Sunrise sunset, to rise to bed
A game of life, like a game of thrones
Where time is spent, and words are said

Seasons pass and hairs turn gray
Friends are lost and friends are made

Can’t find an appropriate line to close off the stanza. Not like it’s worth being called a poem anyway, just random words written out without thinking. I’m trying to think back to how I used to write. I guess I spent a fair amount of time doodling over the same few lines while in class or in camp or at home. I’ve left behind much of that past. (Perhaps I shouldn’t be too addicted to other things.)

Not sure why I started watching, and now reading Game of Thrones — perhaps a cursory fascination with the unabased violence and wanton striking off of main characters. Many shows hang on too hard to their main characters, for too long. Anyhow watching tv doesn’t take up much of my attention.

Do you watch Grey’s Anatomy? Season 10 Episode 24 just aired, to round off the season, and the departure of one of the main characters. *spoilers*
She said she felt “unfinished here”. That’s how it almost always feels – there’s that last little bit more to do, there’s something incomplete, something you can do more, do better, and lots of other things. I would want to stay, and also want to go – and it’s impossible to be in both places.

So much of life is like this. To be absurd, I would say “I miss everything”, I miss the now, the past, the yesterday, the just now, the moment that just passed, and the alternative that could’ve been. There’s never enough time to appreciate and savour every moment (the nice ones anyway).

For Old Friends

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