Let’s talk about the fleeting nature of things. People keep saying, I don’t have time for temporary friends or things etc.
That’s like saying you don’t have time for life. Everything in life is temporary, that doesn’t make it less worth while.
Imagine a kid in a playground. Eventually his parents will take him home and he’ll start crying “no I wanna stayyyy 5 more minutessss”. But his parents will ultimately make him leave. It doesn’t mean he never should have gone. He played for a while, then it was time to go.
Temporary people are no different. People are not meant to stay with you forever.
We are all travelers on a journey. A person stays with his companion for as long as their paths agree. Then he is on his way. And you are on yours. Wish your companion farewell and do not blame a traveler for travelling, rather be happy for your companion.
They invited you to do what they could not.
They summoned you to do what they would not.
They captured you, they enslaved you.
They needed you.
They brought you to build the nation.
They promised a home; it was supposedly set in stone.
You had a place but without a face.
They reaped the rewards with no mention of you or yours.
Then they said they want “their” country back.
And your place was gone without a trace.
Everyone always told me…
“Son, watch out for time.”
“Time will pass you by.”
“Before you know it, you’ll be an old man.”
As if time was a living predator waiting to overtake me.
And they would stare off into the scenery, as if seeing something I was blind to.
It’s not that I didn’t believe them.
But it’s one thing to know something and another to understand.
And it’s even another to experience it.
And sure enough time had overtaken me.
But not like a predator.
More like I had snuck up on myself. And then I watched myself pass me by.
And I sat there Monday morning watching the clock move very slowly.
And I wondered how my juniors had grown older than me.
I wondered how years passed me by around me yet I lay frozen in the past.
Not a minute of progress, not an inch of growth.
And when my age slips my tongue, I don’t believe myself.
Now I sit and stare at a scene everyone else is blind to.
And yet…though I’m not that old….I know that 40 years will pass in 4 minutes…though it may be a long 4 minutes. And I’ll still be here.
An after image.
The fading remnants of a thing since spent.
A false verity, truly only a memory.
A man deceived hopelessly seeks these.
Yet sun and moon take turns playing him the fool.
Slowly snatching away a false glory of yesterday.
And through his endless pursuit he finds himself in a state of endless loss.