Wednesday, November 14, 2007


The Stockholm T-bana (subway) bullets through Stadion Station (or Rainbow Station, in my lexicon), deep underground the Swedish national capital. (2007).

An unidentified number lights up with the ringtone. Uncharacteristically, he answers.

"Hello," he says.

"Hi," she says, "It's me ... "

Shocked, he says nothing.

"I know it's been a long time and maybe this is a little weird, but I wanted to see how you were doing ... " she says.

And so it goes, for another 21 of the emptiest minutes that ever existed in the space-time continuum.

This far into it, the best I can determine is that time travels the path of a swirl. What's old inevitably spirals around again ... though it never quite reappears in exactly the same form as before. And there you are, left to apply those painful lessons learned from past lives and mistakes, wondering if maybe, this time, things could actually be different.

By now, I fully understand it can't all be sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows. But somebody please tell me the colours of this spectrum are real ... because I'm just too tired to weather another storm.


  1. Why did that exchange make me think of the Matrix movies, for some reason...??

  2. Deep, deep words, my friend. Stick to speculating in orange juice futures.

  3. TSM ... not sure, maybe it was the space-time reference?

    Soho ... orange juice can be complicated, too.