There exist certain persons who are able - with nothing more than inherent light and native sweetness - to turn the heart over and around. Persons who one may meet after twelve years and yet pick up that last thread of conversation that hovered about a rusty gate, a pinching competition, or another Mario level.
One must guard against pride, cocksurety, and ignorance just as hard as against indecision, self-pity and often - what we think to be - love. But when said persons walk back into the daily scheme of things - if only long enough for some ginger tea, some levity - keeping things at bay becomes irrelevant. There is, for a while, no further need for walls, fists and scowls. Said persons remind us of who we were, where we are likely to be, and reillumine that ghost of Ithaca.
This being the right moment to ask you to remember to thank whichever god you believe in or don't, for creating said persons who bring back from obsolescence, that much abused token of
Friend.
One must guard against pride, cocksurety, and ignorance just as hard as against indecision, self-pity and often - what we think to be - love. But when said persons walk back into the daily scheme of things - if only long enough for some ginger tea, some levity - keeping things at bay becomes irrelevant. There is, for a while, no further need for walls, fists and scowls. Said persons remind us of who we were, where we are likely to be, and reillumine that ghost of Ithaca.
This being the right moment to ask you to remember to thank whichever god you believe in or don't, for creating said persons who bring back from obsolescence, that much abused token of
Friend.
