Junk Dilemmas: Day 739

I feel like I’m fading away….

I cannot resist turning back to watch my own once-precious skyscrapers collapse into crystalline forms and shift in dimensions with the phases of the moon. The past is so alive and present, even rendered unto ruins. It’s not easy to let go of what’s lost when your future is buried under the dark debris of memories of what might have been. Death doesn’t lie in the future. Death lives in the moment. She whispers to you in the hollow places between unspoken words.

We all live in the past, with the present unfolding before us like a tapestry of promises woven from our dreams. But the past is a sandcastle made up of ashes and bones. Perhaps there will come a day when someone will appreciate my ancient ruins; stop to stare at them in curiosity as I stopped, once, to stare at the fresh grave of a soldier. I wanted to escape death, so I willed life to stop. On the edge of time’s glacial black abyss, I peered over the edge and—

Black_with_White_spot

Time is not a river. It is the horror of the singularity within a black hole. Forever destroying, forever fleeting, in the darkness and the silence of moments we cannot comprehend. This momentary abyss shatters everything around us, every now and every then and all forever. I can only look backwards to see the future before me. I want to escape it. I will it to stop. On the edge of time’s glacial black abyss, I peer over the edge and—

I won’t resist turning back to watch my own precious skyscrapers collapse into crystalline forms and shift in dimensions with the phases of each new moon. The future is alive, even if the past is rendered unto ruins. It’s not easy to let go of what’s behind you when your past is right before you, buried under the dark debris of thoughts of what your life could be. Death doesn’t lie in the past. Death lives in the moment. She whispers to you in the hollow places between unspoken words.

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