A stream of conscious
Who am I? I often wonder at the path I am on, where it will go and what it means. The answers never come easy; more often than not, there is no answer. It’s the curse of being trapped in the present.
Not that I would change the scenery; my place is in the now, though my mortality often creeps up through the folds of my mind.
Not just mine, but every one I care about.
I sometimes wonder what it would be like to live for eternity, to have no fear of the end. It’s selfish, isn’t it? In a lifetime, we get how many minutes, made up of how many seconds? Take this moment, count to ten and think about each second, how time seems to stretch forever in that time.
A watch truly is the perfect metaphor for time. Each click the second hand takes, that’s another that we won’t get back. You can sort of get lost in the regularity of that sound; its consistency dulls our excitement and wonder at all that surrounds us.
I would love to live for eternity, but I can’t help but think that I would end up taking it all for granted; maybe I already am, with the limited time that I do have. I think most of us do.
How else can you explain getting caught up in frivolous arguments, hating somebody for their political points of view or talking negatively on how somebody appears, acts, talks or any of the other pointless, benign physical attributes we seem to put so much value on as a society?
In Hunter S. Thompson’s suicide note, he said, “ 67. You are getting Greedy.” Maybe he saw the same thing I saw, how important each second is and maybe he stopped living for those seconds.
But I won’t. Not yet.
So, for now, I’m going to start valuing time. I want my time here to matter, not just for me, but for the ones around me. And I want their time to matter.
So, with that, I’m signing off and calling my grandma.
I suggest you call someone you care about, too. After all, the only things we truly have is the relationships we develop, the blink of time we’re here and our memories.
Let’s work on making ones that matter.
