"I think of the beauty in the obvious, the way it forces us to admit how it exists. The way in insists on being pointed out like a bloody nose. Or how every time it snows there is always someone around to say, "It's snowing." But the obvious isn't showing off, it's only reminding us that time passes and that somewhere along the way we grow up. Not perfect, but up and out. It teaches us something about time, and that we are all ticking and tocking, walking the fine line between days and weeks. As if each second speaks of years, and each month has years listening to forever but never hearing anything beyond centuries swallowed up by millenniums. As if time was calculating the sums needed to fill the empty belly of eternity. We so seldom understand each other. But if understanding each other is neither here nor there, and the universe is infinite, the understand that no matter where we go, we will always be smack dab in the middle of nowhere. All we can do is share some piece of ourselves and hope that it's remembered. Hope that we meant something. My chest is a cannon that I have used to take aim and shoot my heart upon this world. I love the way an uncurled fist becomes a hand again. Because when I take notes, I need it to underline the important parts of you: happy, sad, lovely. Battle cry ballistic like a disaster or a lipstick earthquake and taking out the monuments of all my hollow yesterdays. We'll always have the obvious. It reminds us who, and where we are, it lives like a heart-shaped jar you hand to others and ask, "Can you open this for me?" We always get the same answer: "Not without breaking it." More often than sometimes I say, "Go for it."'
Shane Koyczan
