Musings on a Saturday Morning

I’m living in a fast lane. The whole week went by in a blur. Most of the time, the only thing I could think of was the next Saturday evening, which happens to be a few hours away as of the moment.

I know I’m thinking of him more than I ought. And I’m building castles in the air. At least I know for a fact that they are castles in the air and nothing more. Knowing that at least, is a bit of wisdom. Or maybe it makes me all the more a fool. But then again, the wise man and the fool are often the same person.

One day I’ll look back and smile at it all. Maybe I’ll laugh at my foolishness. Or maybe I’ll wince with the pain of remembering.

I wonder if I’ll ever break free of this certain pattern my life’s going through. It’s getting all too familiar. And a little sad and pathetic.

They say repeated experiences have but one aim... to teach a lesson. I wonder if I’ll ever learn.
Right now I’m wondering if he remembers my name. And I wonder what I’ll say if he doesn’t. Maybe I’ll just introduce myself for the third time and hope I don’t have to do it again.

He’s just a boy. Chronologically, I’m but a few, negligible years older. But in so many ways, I am decades older. But then again, I don’t really know.

He’s just a boy. That thought rings in my head at odd times throughout the day, like a discordant note in a beautiful symphony. It brings me back to the sobering reality.

Ah, but acting the fool is fun. It takes a certain kind of heroism to make oneself vulnerable. And the happiness of the fleeting moment might last a lifetime and make me smile when I’m old and gray.

Somebody once said, “If you don’t act foolish while you’re young, you’ll have nothing to smile about when you’re old.”

I wonder if it's really worth it.