come and gone

I have always wanted to be only so tired that the moment I touch my head to a pillow, I fall right asleep. I don't want to be too tired, then I cannot sleep. I only want to be so tired that I fall right to sleep, the moment my head touches the pillow.

Life never really stops at the moment I want it to. Neither does exhaustion.

Then there is love. Its incredible how I could have felt more loved when I was not told I was loved. There is usually love's first kiss and its almost always (at least in my case has been) the most perfect(est) moment(s) - under a starlit sky, on a beach - throw in a sunset for good measure maybe... and while its natural to wonder why the moment came to pass, I find myself wondering why the moment came about in the first place. See I think moments passed are memories made. Good stuff, you know what I mean. I have my memories, but I do wonder why the moment came about in the first place. Because now I feel let down. Not as loved as I thought I was loved. When I was not told I was loved.

Moments have an insane need to express themselves. When caught in one, I find its contagious.

Then there is time. Something I measure with everything but a watch. I measure two days as the duration it takes for my hair to frizz up from the conditioners anti-staticky effects wearing out. One hour is the time it takes to make fifteen dollars. Ten minutes the time it takes to make a cup of coffee - just right. Oh and the recent addition is worry lines... on my forehead. That is a measure of how much time I have wasted during the course of my life.

I am stuck in a moment when I am tired and no longer sleepy, exhausted and indifferen about being loved.
But I'm not worrying about it, which must mean time's standing still.