Pockets of Bullet Time

There are times when somehow, everything falls into place and for a brief moment you feel that whatever's wrong has been righted and you're strangely at peace. You can sense reality peeking around the corners, waiting for normalcy to resume and its machinery to start working again. But in that golden moment, which has that elastic quality of sometimes seeming never ending and at others blindingly swift, you know reality's hung its hat and taken a coffee break.

I had a couple of those today. They were of the swift kind, but I've learnt enough to know you don't question these things. For several wonderful moments, life went on hold and I could breathe again. In short, it felt like it should. I know I shouldn't treat them as anything more than temporary reprieves and illusions, but they are gratifying, in a completely absurd way. Of course there's always the danger of attaching too much meaning to them and thus bringing about the whole quagmire again but I'd like to think I'm slightly more prepared this time (hmph).

Maybe I'll call them my own little pockets of Bullet Time: places where regular rules of reality stop, and my rules have some purchase. Pieces of bliss floating about in 3 dimensional space, transient but tangible and real enough to those with the good fortune to stumble onto them or better yet, find them. The Ox is old enough to know that once Real Time starts moving again, it'll all come back to him: the bills, the responsibilities, the whole shebang. Then again, he's also young enough to understand that you take what you get and you use it to its fullest, especially if it's a handful of time with a person that gave him his world in the first place.

I know you may not be able to give what I ask for (and I understand, really)
but for the time well spent (at least)
Thank you.

I sleep well tonight.