The chase of time is deeply perfumed with intrigue. We all know nothing lasts beyond the whale of time but we are duped in the game. Ticking clock expanding universe, entropy rising, spinning stars and planets , heart playing it’s last beats, rivers flowing, last wishes shall be gone forever, only one thing remains cozy, time. It longs for infinity which never comes. Technically we lose. We fade because we try to quantify time with digits.
Digits become scavengers of our lives. Confinement lies in the deep ocean of changing digits. Floating above are the bottles of hope, reluctance and relief. In the tide of time, we are the stones tossed into the ocean. Often acts as sediment in the flowing river of time, refusing to go as it goes on. It matters so much. But nature discovered the true escape, to be dimensionless. It’s hidden in what leaves reveal, rocks whisper, lakes sing and birds, who coo that digitized life is a quest of believing in being free and indeed being a prisoner.
I write this as I sob in the water under an iceberg so it doesn’t find me. See my tears and have a laugh of sadism for incarceration of myself.
Time is all we have and all we lose. It’s injustice to the people who want to live for eternity. Thus, we try to find time’s forever such that the universe stops and we become free spirits, who can then actually paint their canvases beyond limit.