Moments in Time

Sometimes, in my everyday life, I get flashes of genius. Moments. Slow motion synapse jumps. If you are not to write, then vanished. Poof, like magic. Like batman. Out of existence. Never to be seen by those who were never meant to hear it. This is one of those moments. Taken away from menial mind-play. This illusion of time. This waste. Sitting in front of these same misshapen pixels with these same veins and nerves, with the grand possibilities of either donating to this disaster relief or cause or the constantly forced notion of everybody wanting to enlarge their penis. Moments. Genius. Everyday. Forced to write in broken grammar in dire fear of losing this one. This great and monumental one. Every time the same. Days later scratching my head in wonder of what could have been. If I had written it down. If I had thought it through. If I had tried. If I had dared to dream. If I could encourage these happenings and deny the bad. The underdeveloped ones. The ones most wanting to be rescued and brought to shore. Here I find myself leading the string to that life boat. The way out. Like those who cannot trust themselves. I am one of those people.

Benjamin D. Bain
September 6, 2005