Or it was when I began writing. It's been a week almost two since.
It was my birthday.
"Hello again it's you and me, kinda always like it used to be," John Francis Bonjiovi
I've lived my life so far on a tiny speck of a nation west of far east and east of the wild west. I was born and raised on the world's third largest island, in a land once of headshrinkers, then three years ago I flew over to city mud in a peninsular. Three months from now if all goes to plan, I'll be off to a kingdom to which my home once served as a colony.
Fleet flies the feet of time.
Ah... Time truly is more pliable than we conventionally prescribe it. Fluid, it easily fits the rigid molds we apply to it, minutes, days, years, millenia, our forms are easily accomodated but fail to capture, to encapsulate the sheer enormity of time's true nature. What would Kronos say? Petty tools for man's convenience, yet ubiquitous and fundamental to life as they live it. Time ebbs and flows following no mans dictation; sometimes weeks seem to stretch out and lounge in its sands, yet years may seem barely breaths apart. Seconds may vie with eternity, a whole lifetime flash by in the blink of an eye. Seems like our true relationship with time transcends the mere mapping of moments. Time willingly bends not only our current experience, but our memory of it. It's all in our head, yes, but what isn't. Aha.. more half baked musing.
I think...
I flirt with relativity.
Long ago it seems since I've left my life at home behind. Only at times it doesn't seem that distant. Vanished have many friendships along the way. Ever gone to place wherever the lost gather.
Yay, I'd vote to remember it all, so we could live our life everyday. Oh regrets I could live with day after day, and regrets my memory would help prevent me making. Until the day I see no more and mine eyes close in lasting dream.
Gnite.
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