Everything is so up in the air.  It doesn’t matter what you wake up to, what you go to bed with is always a last minute decision.  Relativity, comfort zones and the inner child’s core belief that there is no truth, there is only supposition.  Life is made of twists and turns, fast breaks and sudden, jerking stops.  We are all pin points on maps made by voyagers the size of mountain ranges.  Each of us a slight breeze in search of a congregation of sighs and breathy vows to seek the source of revelation; we are brothers and sisters pretending to be alone because its easier to be by yourself when you feel so completely out of reach.

But we do not struggle because life is hard.  We struggle, we fight and define and bargain away all that we are because time is the only way we have of measuring our success.  We see the distance from where we were to where we are and we feel as though we’ve done something, but it’s not right to fool ourselves this way.

I have no children because I never wanted to explain to someone so important that there was never anything more, there was never going to be a gift, a burden, a promise to make up for all the things we lose throughout our lives.  There was never going to be some great arrival that made what we had to leave behind worth leaving.  There was never going to be an answer to why things are the way they are.

Life has nothing to do with a journey.  That’s just the sort of thing we say to ourselves and to one another to excuse the fact, to muddle the truth; where we are is all that ever really matters.  There is no place better, no height worth reaching for, no low so dire we need struggle to never sink there.  There is just this exact moment.  And you can smile and laugh or you can curl up and cry and it never amounts to anything, it just passes from one moment to the next where again we have the same basic, cosmic, random, bland and yet utterly fantastic choice set before us.  To laugh or to cry, to document or to blindly let slip by the ticking of seconds that matter only in terms of how they add up and never to how we spend them.

Life is not a struggle.  Life is either the obstacle that stands between where we say we’re from and where we hope we’re going or it is the blissful exchange of a thought, an emotion, a decision, a regret, a compulsion or a revelation for some fleeting component that has no value but that for which we assign.  Life is what we make it.

How are you spending your moments?  What is the value of your time?


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