Those singular moments of plural possibility…

…sometimes visit upon us when we’re at our most unreceptive.

We shall refer to him as Significant-Geek or sg33k for brevity. This is what I call him when I’m trying to be cute or ironic. That or “Hey Pumpkin, you’re Smashing!” Which is as emo as we get.

Sg33k’s an interesting fella. Incredibly talented and hard-working, he’s so focused it makes me sick. Because I’m as batty and scatter-thunk as they come. If I had a second’s worth of his drive, I’d be on book four and a half.

Sg33k’s also a challenge (not challenged. Although when he laughs sometimes, he has that special person look…) And I know that when he reads over that, he’s going to say “bleh”. That’s just the kind of guy he is. A guy who says “bleh” a lot. And a guy who reads blogs. Sometimes this blog. That’s kinda how we met. But I won’t go into that. He’s not into mush and sentiment, but he did get me my very own domain to which I gush, “You had me at www…”.

So as I was saying…
singular moments blah blah
…sometimes visit upon us when we’re at our most unreceptive.

‘Quite smoking dammit’, ‘Get off facebook’, ‘You know, he just may be the One’; those missives hit you like hailstones in the highveld, chipping and denting, indelibly.

It only takes that moment for volumes within you to displace in eureka-fashion, sans, we hope, the running through the streets of Syracuse naked.

I’ve just had that moment.

And it’s terrifying. Because even though the possibilities are vast and unmeasurable, it’s like continental drift. The pieces can go anywhere, but back.

And now I’ve gone and blogged it.

There’s no such thing as The One. But there is The One you choose.

And yeah, I guess I’ve chosen.

Bleh.