slow and steady wins the race.

that's what the story of the tortoise and hare tells us. it sure does. it's probably more meaningful, too. get to enjoy the journey, see the sights, breathe in the fragrance, accomplish mini milestones along the way. but i'm a hare by nature. all or nothing. go hard or go home. if it's a 7 mile race, i'll wait until the tortoise is at mile 6, then i'll sprint like crazy to catch up 7 miles while you run 1. it's not a smart way, but i convince myself that i've trained myself enough to be able to do so. and many times, i've won.

but that was not to continue forever. my trusty legs won't get me there as fast as i'm used to. i see the race getting closer and closer. i used to win by half a mile, but then it became a quarter mile, an eighth of a mile, and now the difference is only yards and feet. it's gotten close enough where i'm beginning to think that i'm gonna lose.

i hate to use the analogy, but maybe i'm like kobe. not that i'm a world class baller, but just for the comparison of evolution. kobe has the genes. he has the over seas experience. he has the natural gift. he's gotten many years of experience under his belt. he's still young, but he's on the decline of his playing days. but instead of losing, he added jordan's fadeaway. i hate to admit, but you can't block a fadeaway. so he still drops 40. still got game.

i hate kobe. because i am kobe. without the fadeaway. i refuse to develop the fadeaway. i don't like the idea of fading away. i don't like succumbing to the aggression of the opponent. but it's the smart thing to do. i can't go toe to toe anymore. i don't have the legs. i don't have the athleticism. i don't have the endurance. but i still refuse to fadeaway. combining it with my experience and wisdom would let me win those races with the tortoise again, but my stubbornness refuses to succumb. i've developed a bad habit of starting the race 6 miles back. i can't change.

but i should. i need to. or else i'm done. i'm toast. onlookers would say, "hey dummy, just start the race when the gun goes off instead of waiting 6 miles." in my mind, i'm nodding in agreement. but my body won't get off the blocks. it refuses to. i don't know why. it won't listen. i've said 'no don't start, no don't start' for too many years now. when i say 'gun's off, lets go!', the body freezes in a shock of confusion. it asks me to repeat myself, cuz it didn't think it heard right the first time. after all these years of not going, you want me to go now? that goes against everything we've been doing these past many many years. yes, i tell my body, but my body is now paralyzed with confusion. instead of not willingly going, it is unable to go. i've undermined my race. i've undermined myself.

ramen is good. 3 minutes and done. microwavable rice, good. metal pots and pans, good. but when you get soondooboo and rice from the restaurant, they bring it out in the stone bowl. and that sucker stays piping hot for a hot minute. i know it takes a while for the stone bowl to get hot. and it takes a while for it to cool. i've been metallic for too long. i wanna be stone bowl. i wanna go longer. i want slow and steady.

in my mind i say 'i can change.' but i know it's easier said than done. and it's easier thought than said. so i have a big mountain before me. but i'll start climbing. step by step. everyday. i don't know how long it'll take, but if i don't think about it, then i'm sure i'll get there before i realize it. cause at the top of that mountain, there will be a fadeaway, a stone bowl, and some more game.

it starts with mile 0.

it's that ambiguous time of the day. not quite middle of the day, shadow is short, can't look directly in the sun, it's winter but i'm wearing a short-sleeved shirt time. neither is it pitch black outside, every time i breathe i look like a dragon because of all the steam coming out of my mouth, i need to wear four layers of clothes, can't see without lights time. it's the in-between time where the sky turns an interesting palette of faint pink, purple, blue, red, orange, yellow, green. it's the time where if someone transported you from the outer universe and dropped you into this time, then you wouldn't know whether the sun was rising or if the sun was setting. it's that time when you feel unsettled inside just by being outside.

inside the house the lights are on, but you can't quite tell if it's bright indoors because of the interior lights, or the low sunlight creeping in. the halogen lamp in the corner shows off its presence with a stuttering blink every few seconds. it demands attention, but after a while, the flickering is easily ignored. it remains a wallflower in the corner.

the tv overpowers the lamp. saved by the bell is on. screech has stumbled upon a delightful spaghetti sauce recipe and becomes a pseudo wealthy entrepreneur. simultaneously, he falls hopelessly for robin, and buys her gifts left and right. on his way to buy robin a gold bracelet, in addition to the silver one he already got her, screech comes back because he forgot something, only to accidentally eavesdrop on robin telling her friend that she got that dork screech to buy her all these wonderful presents. the two girls proceed to giggle, while screech's shoulders drop six inches and he slowly turns and drags his feet away.

the kitchen is busy. the rice cooker says there is eight minutes left until a pot of freshly cooked white rice is done. the stove is gurgling with the spicy red soup trying to push off the top and spill over onto the counter. the fan lets out a gentle but ominous hum. the orchestra of the kitchen is quite delightful. every now and then, the fridge kicks in with a whirr to accent certain beats. the foreman grill, toaster, and the coffee pot are left out of this piece. maybe next time.

the bedroom light is a dim orange. it's so weak, it barely reaches the corners of the room. but maybe that's a good thing, because the monitor on the desk is bright and busy. there are four tabs open. the first tab flickers on the bottom right corner because a friend is chatting away about her day. the second tab is paused because the youtube video is still buffering. only the skinny horizontal red bar slowly grows from left to right. the third tab is a smorgasbord of attention getters. a white number at the top indicating 2 new messages in the inbox. several lines on the top right indicating there are people requesting friendship, events to be answered to, and a gift from a friend to add to your farm. on the bottom right a red balloon indicates there are 4 new notifications. the fourth tab is white. there was a website that needed to be visited, but with the multiple distractions of the first three, it is forgotten. memory blank as the white screen.

the stereo plays music. beats hard, making sure you know where the top of the beat falls. it's not a one-three-one-three, or a two-four-two-four. it's one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four for a solid four minutes and twelve seconds. and then repeat. the window is cracked. random noises make their way in. the low roll of a semi. the screeching of a truck. random conversations from passerby. doors closing. and the high pitched buzz that creeps in every once in a while.

throughout the house it's busy. lights. sounds. screens. visuals. smells. touches. feelings.

but no one's home.