There must be a scourger just to represent time, or maybe a whole clan for it. Because time and my own mortality has been haunting me lately. The passage of time happens against my will and though it feels slow and that all can be appreciated, it is relentless. Soon I’ll be gone, and will still be ticking on.
The full prospect of mortality is one of the worst narcissistic injuries, and the hardest to accept for those who love this place. I can see precious hours, minutes and seconds pass by and it makes me paralyzed. How short our time in this world is. There is so much to do, so much to see and learn, but I can’t possibly experience it all.
And as paralyzed as I feel, I’ve been finding myself strangely refusing the acceptance of living my life with those few opportunities I had the chance to experience, in comparison to all that is in the world and the universe. There’s only one life, and I won’t come back. I’m too viciously attached to this world.
As the whole issue revolves around the fact that I can only live once, I am afraid of accepting my life as one singular life. It leads me to postpone choices that will define me. The fright I have about definition is how I am discarding other possibilities. And this way, I am declaring this is the path I want for my life.
All other possibilities I’ve discarded can’t be experienced. My choices will mean these are the things I will experience in this world, and the others I’ve refused, goodbye. But the more I delay defining my own future regarding, for instance, career, the less I feel like actually living.
Still, the fright can also come from the actual perception I’ve been starting to have my self defined. When I look back and see how I’ve been spending my year, or the things I’ve been dedicating my time to. The sudden broken generation that makes me see how much focused I’ve been into this blog, for instance, and that there are so much more out there in the world suddenly makes me feel something like an aversion to this.
