A moment before time snaps and breaks

Let go a moment and drop everything you know about everything that isn't you, isn't your moment. This is hard to do on the metaphorical train that we follow our way along. In crowded human communities, there are others around us all of the time and moments of introspection are hard to come by.

Yet, so many of the treats of human civilization are only possible because of people who spend a lot of time thinking in isolation. When you layer all of those experiences on top of each other you end up with something else, something additive. 

I just posted a story that took over a week to write. Maybe more. I guess I say "over a week" to mean about 45 hours of production time, an assumption that can't be accurately verified but is stated on an honor code beholden to only me. 

I'm listening to Shellac to close everyone else out who is a stranger in the last hour and a half before I get back home after 11 days away. I can see them, can hear them, am aware, but the pulse of a dead man's music makes me want to be alive as best I can. I don't need to explain that to anyone, but it makes sense to me, especially after I finally put a story to bed that I decided to write five weeks ago without really knowing if I could do it. 

But I did it. I may do a podcast version, maybe sell other versions elsewhere, but I spent some of my resources to do go somewhere I wanted to go to learn about something I didn't know before.

This is a moment before time snaps and breaks and I don't know what else is on the other side of this sentence.