living discretely

Walking through a bookstore, picking random books. A page here, a line there, an entire chapter elsewhere. Fragmented scenes. Shattered stories. Broken plots. Kaliedoscopic melange.

A jigsaw with a million pieces. Impossible to see what it makes. But a sense of expectation, the fun of finding out.

One day, I feel, it's all going to fit together. Somehow, someway, impossibly... it's all going to fit. It's all going to make sense.

These days. These hours. These minutes.

Sometime, they'll fit together, too.