nonconnah

The present is a shore that disappears as soon as you reach it. The future is theory, forever unattainable, moving further out as one approaches. All we have is the unwavering curtain of our past, our crucible of  yesterdays and spent tomorrows. Not one world, but many worlds. The darkness we knew but never understood, the light we longed for but never held. The only truth is this and nothing further. The only time is that which is outlined by time’s absence, images in haunted negative. Something hovers above us always, unspeaking and patient. Someone waits invisibly or obscured. In this way we are both free and ensnared. In this way we are both alone and undoubtedly, fatally, joined. 

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