up your architecture.

Here's a way to cope.

In my Minneapolis, Autumn has quickly approached. Pictures and posters and other reminders of friends and family float down from the wall creating heaps of frames strewn onto the ground which are carefully raked up into piles and placed into boxes to await their turn for pick up. With every piece of furniture that has it's likeness recorded like the last fair of the fall and placed on the digital auction block the pieces of my everyday life begin their decomposition, disappearing from my sight... one by one. I look around and there are only a few leaves left hanging from nails on my walls. As I pluck them the place seems a little colder as if the life is being sucked out of it. The green walls fade back into the trees outside no longer belonging to my insignificant little life but to the origin of their color. The wood floors steam up as the apartment below me seems to seethe in anticipation of new blood above them that their cat can dig its delinquent claws into after playing coy and coaxing its new unsuspecting victims into its clutches. For the first time I realize that I want this place but my rejection of it has set it free to return to the wild like the injured animal you nurse back to health. The Stack has harbored me and I it, but we are both on the mend and it is time for us to part ways. Goodbye. We'll see each other some day and smile with a wink in our aged faces and know that our time was brief, but enjoyable, meaningful in a way that many don't, or won't ever understand. Long days have come to a short end. But long times live past endings and forge new beginnings.