Saturday, July 31, 2010
e(ski)mo
Too careless, he muttered, to have let countless minutes and moments of our lives slip by. But what does time do if not slip. Slip past the grasp of our hands, barely touching our naked fingertips. Breathe in, and it's gone. Breathe out, and you're too late. If only we could break back into our memories and jolt them back to life. There is a fine liminal line between past and present. See, we just crossed it again. A faint shade between been and be, he thought. How hard could it be, to recover what had been. After all, are not the fragments of time past that make up what is present? To de-compose time, he explained, and rearrange them in an order that we desire fit.
It's just a matter of time, literally.
tried to hunch; 8:46 PM