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Quadragenarian

If the verve of permanence is one continuous line, then why do we fall victim to our own pre-marked intervals? Time will assiduously flow, no breath shorter than the last. A pause in this, virtually impossible. However, imagine for just a brief moment; if we could. What then? And in which space would we seize our true sanctuary; the one between the tick and the tock or the one few and far between? Consider it then, this unutilized dimension may very well occupy the most elementary of explanations. All in all along little choice, we all abide by the same physics; repeatedly collecting the milestones of our own anthropomorphic achievements. The definition of a transpicuous ego? Perhaps it is the notion of self-worth that keeps us tiptop and at our moral best.

Are we ever fully rehearsed to grow senile? Foreboding thought, but why stop now? Implied that life is an endowment, for whatever ecclesiastical reason. Think of all the beautiful things one would have missed if they started out a miscarriage. To what unknown fragrance are these mysterious roses capable? But unfortunately, there is no yin without yang; and never do hardships run sparse. Death and betrayal bares mind; enough to spawn a hatred that exudes from our turbulent skies. Perchance unjust, but a balance none the less; existing far before birth and perseverant millenniums after our demise. Half empty or full, we can always take pride within the context of our own free will.

My thoughts, howbeit absurdly obtuse; fester within the privacy of my own mind. Has the sense of self gone completely awol from sanity? I have been breaking my teeth on the ideals of a consummate life; reprehensible for chasing a heart draw in a deck full of spades. But enough dampish wallow, the brakes were purposely never installed. With linchpin securely locked, we’re off to the next decade. All the demission and even more revisions; we can’t imaginably stop now. The unappreciated privilege? Do what you will with it. For me, I feel I am just getting started.

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