Living in the Now

So easy it is, to think life is too long. As seconds tick by, minutes fly away, hours flow, weeks pass, months disappear, and years are left behind, we look forward in a foolish pretext that we'll live forever. So would our loved ones. But they won't. And so won't we. Because if you look up at the skies, you see a silent moon look back at you with it's perfect constant emptiness. You see stars and that darkness in which they swim, exactly the same as they were when you looked at them as a child in your mother's lap.

But now you've grown up, scars drawn down your face like footsteps of time mercilessly etched multiple times. We harden as beaten steel cast in strong pillars, foundations immovable with their might, to support a life built like castles of sand, guarded by principles and emotional and wisdom and shields of true pretext. And then as we stand amazed looking at that strange face in the mirror, who looks back equally amazed at how amazed you are. That lie strikes back too hard. A lie we innocently accept and absorb in its evil silence.