Page 2: Found Soul
Today I found a lost soul in the middle of the road. Stuck there in the once-molten asphalt. The heel had lodged itself an unnatural distance behind. Both soul and heel lay there, flesh colored and flush to the road, crushed by the overriding traffic, and yet so clean and unmarred! A fresh kill no doubt, whose glow radiated from the street, arresting my gaze and my black sneaks in their tracks.
Across the street a red hand turned white walker, and the flood of lunchers brushed past me on their way down 6th Ave. Phone in hand, I framed the view below my chin and held it out to behold upright: a soul once lost had been found. And so I write.
Inspiration is a funny thing; it wakes you up and reminds you that a part of your soul had been sitting there unlocked for so long you forgot it ever existed. Words don’t mean much to me anymore, principles even less. I’m a scientist and I work at the computer, speaking its language as best I can. It’s been a numbing year, and, like the first warm day in spring, the discovery of an artistic spark opened my eyes to the depression in which a creative winter had entrapped me. Not often do I get the chance to sit and reflect, and it just so happens that tonight is such a night, on the evening following the discovery of this soul and rediscovery of this “medium”.
If you want to follow the observations of a found soul, read on. I crave compartments for my chaotic thoughts, and what better place to organize them than in your eyes.