It is all mindless, and yet it pulls you in.

And yet, I can pull myself back. I can and will try, since try is all I can do.

There was a point. There always has been a point; an expectation that once was posted in composition books and text messages. I’ve also thought about doing exactly this, posting and thinking and writing and moving into something that is different but the same.

So it only takes a moment.

Is this the moment? Who’s to say?

But I can say a few things…

There is never any difference. Brain Games will inform that the brain quickens and slows down time in accordance to what it finds important. That’s something a 24-year old with delusions that he was able to do anything, write anything and publish whatever he felt fit to release to the general public.

It’s only a wonder if the InterWeb was what it is today at that time. But any game of time travel and What If’s only pollute what actually was and what can be.

What are created excuses that aren’t needed, but shouldn’t need to be created? What are momentary changes to avoid actions that will never be? The seconds like this are what turns minutes in moments of change.

Changing early morning emotions and actions isn’t easy. So it’s easy to celebrate defeating the lazy comfort of lying in bed for a 5K run before the world awakes.

Is it prefacing to state my major accomplishment at 39 was finishing a 4-mile run in 39:08? Maybe that’s just boosting, but I’m not one to toot my own horn unless it’s obvious.

So while the first 1/2 mile was torture, I found the proverbial “Runner’s Grove” and was considering an extended route despite noticing a police SUV travel back and forth before turning.

It could be a coincidence, a public servant doing his job just like me or a safety guard against the unknown, like a solo runner on Christmas Eve in a neon yellow shirt and shorts.

Regardless, my journey through the newly created reconstituted small-town downtown was alerted, missing out on construction of the townhomes and structures to border the green space saved from a time before and long forgotten by the prospective residents.

Can the same be said for those choosing to reside 5 miles south in similar structures in concept, however instead of a town green and city hall, these homes are banked by two apartment complexes that were called home when I first arrived in this city.

Atlanta is a beacon for the South, providing a place to leave your small town, be it with one traffic light or the central hub of a small town conclave, complete with long two-lane roads with little on either side of the space beyond the concrete.

It is a big city, complete and correct in its ranking as the 6th largest media market regardless if another metropolis has more people. The country’s largest airport resides inside its fictional border. A state of mockery only because of the county designations that split the city and allow the minds of some to affect all.

That mindset would allow a state government official the power to push for change. However if everyone has a say and an ability to prevent, someone will take advantage and the city stays in that shadow for the foreseeable.

I don’t know what to foresee going forward, which is what it should be. The only thing I can hope for is my freedom to flow, my creativity to remain so and prosper…even as I freeze on the adjoining adjective. All I can hope to accomplish is a pattern that brings me back, sooner rather than later, and as was said before, that’s the truth.