Life is good. Not perfect, as only moments can ever be perfect, and not the collection of moments which makes up a life. I often feel guilty when I don’t write for days and weeks, since I know that with every second’s passing, there’s a black hole that devours memories of moments all precious in their own ways. If not captured in words or pictures, then gone, sometimes forever. Sometimes their faint shadows flicker in the dark of the night as if struggling to come back to life, but still, gone by morning.
Such is the power of time. We measure it in such precise increments, as if this gives us control. We are all constantly fighting for control, crying outrage at the people and institutions and thrust rules upon us. Yet we yearn to surrender our control, believing in higher forces kind enough to give us rules to follow and forgive our trespasses. In the olden times people divided the forces they cannot understand into different gods, each with their own power and personality. As we understood more of the world the glory of those gods faded as did their images on temple walls. Yet there’s so much we still don’t know, so we lump it into one god, omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent. We call this god by different names and lovingly personifies Him. We fight against those who dare to question our own interpretation of this god, like spoiled children who want to hear their parents say “you are my favorite.” All the while time passes by, funnily as quickly as life, and then, we are gone.
I had set my pen (or rather, my fingers to the keyboard) down to write about the past month, to tell you about the crazy time in Vegas, fun strolls with my friend’s overly needy Pomeranian, and quiet conversations with friends I had not seen for years. I wanted to exclaim how small the world is, that you should never expect to not see people again as they will turn up at the most inopportune time and place. I’ve been meaning to complain about how the mass number of channels to share has made it impossible to share. I thought Super 8 was a pretty good movie, and X-Men: First Class was entertaining. I’m on book 5 of the Harry Potter series and will likely not finish everything before I go watch the final movie. Slightly disappointed about my year end results at work, but hoping for a good year going forward.
I had so much to say about those moments, but as they are already past, at this present moment, I only wanted to talk about time.
I have been writing a blog for almost 10 years. An entire decade! As fickle as I am with hobbies and such, I amaze even myself with this singular act of persistence. I’m grateful for having a place to come to and share my thoughts, even though some may not understand why I’d rather share them in an open forum rather than with my close friends. There’s a great sense of relief when I click the Publish button and just let my thoughts float out there. Some of my friends may read it, most do not, nor are they particularly interested. Strangers may drop by and say hi, some stay and others leave, like the rest of the people in life. But no matter who comes and goes, I am still here, reminiscing about times gone by, remembering who I was, understanding who I am, and deciding who I want to be.
P.S. The title is the song from Casablanca, which plays often in my head, especially on a cloudy day such as today.
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