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Clock Without Time
Life is a dream.
Life is a dream at large.
We are put here for a moment, but our lives get lost in the vastness of time and space.
Before we realize why we are here, we are gone; and before we can celebrate our birth, we celebrate our death.
At the young age of eternal do we establish ourselves.
Where we are lost, we are found. For we are everywhere at any given moment.
We are anyone from any given moment.
Given more moments than we can handle, we start to pile them in the back of our transverse memory system.
Where they are never to be cherished again.
Maybe that is why we write.
Maybe that is why I write.
For I am afraid of forgetting my whole life. So I record it. I am busier filming it than living it.
Fear me not, for I am only human. I have no course or explanation to my actions, and my emotions are just a spectacle.
My purpose is to find a purpose. Give my life a meaning, and it can be anything I want it to be.
So move aside, because the life you created for me is just a fragment of your imagination.