Now, friction in plain speech is what causes heat, right? Friction. Everything is friction. Flying is friction, driving is friction, love is friction, sex is friction. And yet we blithely travel through our spheres not seeing, not understanding it is where the two points meet that we fail to realize our very existence.

And so we begin our story.

Is anything really a science? Is there a method to science or a science to method? Perhaps those that can answer this question properly are too busy doing far greater things, and so the world may never know. Kind of like how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop. These unanswered questions keep some up at night, and drive others to work in the morning. They leave me in between words with cold caffeinated liquid. The question I pose is friction.

As children, my twin brother, older sister and I would run about the carpet in our slippers to give us a charge that we might run up to each other and shock them. The friction between us would gain greater charge in the years to come. Dare we step away from the over analytical aspect of life and take a look inside to see where we are. Let's begin with an introduction.

I have come of age in an age that doesn't quite know what to do with itself. Walls fall down, curtains are open, we shine a little light and find more things to fight about. As a species we tend to feel a little older and a little wiser when bad things happen to us. Does this mean when good things happen we are younger and ignorantly blissful? Or do only good things happen when we are young. The population, I would wager, would disagree with that.

Less is more. Perhaps this is why when I first was struck by love I thought it the grandest thing in the world, or perhaps this is just the nature of love.

That was how we first met. Though, I contend she doesn't remember much of who I am, she does at least, remember that. She doesn't know how much I loved her, or that's what my heart tells my mind, so that it maybe won't hurt so much. I lost her in a storm of cheating, lies, and betrayal. Too exhausting to recount, too painful to remember, too breaking to forget. We shall let it pass. As all things will in time. But I was changed. Falling to earth is a painful process...