Moments

Moments locked in time don't stay there. They come -- attached to memories, songs, poems, scents. And all at once, what once was, now is. And that's how we live. We live in the past, present and future -- at all times and points through the day. A commingling. It is how we laugh when we're sad. Forgive when we hurt. Make up when we're put out. Compromise when we're unrelenting. Life is a stage, with actors and actresses who(m) as long as they don't die off, have the potential to resurface -- either in the flesh or through memories. Through daydreams. Through nightly fears.

We CANNOT choose what to rehash, no better than we can choose what to suppress. It's not natural. It's not healthy to keep the words attached to our thoughts inside. Because even though we may feel like we're putting our best face forward, masks don't hide eyes. And they very rarely hide lips. And if we're lucky, neither will our face. Because it's called being human. It's called suffering the indelible when all else in this world, though alive, can seem as forgettable and as fake as a 50 year old fern plant.

Stolen moments resist time. Time is ever constant, ever moving. Stolen moments produce the effect of living twice at once. It is so because we breathe for the present while we think about the past. And our heart pumps blood to ensure our future, though let's not get ahead of ourselves, because the future physically is not promised, like standing buildings or parents. Or like the ceiling of the Sistine chapel. One day it will not exist, no matter how hard we try to preserve it.

Moments. Just moments. Cast ironed by fate and a lackluster determination to exist in the past, long before the past can be reasoned so. Each breath we take can be immortalized depending upon what we do during that breath. Is it just like any other? Were you jumping? Were you feeding the hungry? Were you self-absorbed? Or were you contemplating your next moment?