#inthepits

[headlight-district]

Fist bump for Hump Day

[mostlymonsterscv]

After a day of “Wicked” music and Harry Potter...moving on to “Annie”! #patioplayhouse #orchestralife #inthepits #clarinets (at Kit Carson Amphitheater)

[eugenehonrath]

#inthepits #teampelfrey #indy #indycar #promazda (at St. Pete Grand Prix - Turn 2 Safety Gate)

[olyexpress]

#thursday #inthepits #beforetherace #nexttohamilton #astonmartin http://www.olympia-charger.com

[broadwaychoppers]

View this post on Instagram

Yeah my pit is a killa lol little kitty my daughter rescued when du mama got hit n killed by a cage #bullys #pitsrule #inthepits #518 #schenectady

[thecookiemonsterscave]

Just I

They say time changes everything: even the toughest rocks wear away. Time is supposed to act like an eye opener and make you learn and evolve through experience.

But what is experience? What if you just don't want to follow the inevitable pattern you derive from your experience? What if all that you should do and want to do just don't converge? How do you coexist with the same you on divergent paths? How do you tell someone that no, what you said back ages ago still holds true to the word and that there is no 'old me' or 'new me', just 'me'. I. 

Sometimes time really doesn't change anything at all. It's like you being a pyramid in the Egyptian deserts: untouched, unscathed, unweathered for all those years, albeit with nothing majestic at all about you. You're like the Mayan relics now falling to ruin who tell the tale of the inevitable things they knew would happen well ahead of the proper time for revelation and yet had no power in the face of life. You could even be like the Hagia Sophia having been controlled by two different religions in separate epochs and being the main house of worship to them, yet the same at heart and unwavering in its infinite capacity to capture the hearts and minds of all who visit, yet also with scars all over telling the tale that life has hit even here and everything has not been as the wish was. You could be like those mountains that are tough and ugly on the outside yet always house and protect the miniature creatures and hold within them the hot, molten lava of feeling and rock.

Time ticks by on the clock and the skin may wrinkle and the eyes may lose sight. Some of those wrinkles will tell the tale of happiness, some of frowns worn throughout life and some of sorrow, crow's feet where the eyes wrinkle from a smile. And there will be some wrinkles just because of that special smile only you can invoke by the very fact of presence.

And why all of this? Because there is no old me and no new me. Just me. I.