With small clouds of dust, life blows on by. I never get a clear sight of it: every time I am about to catch up to it, its wheels (or is it its legs?) speed up, and it races off into the distance again. It's as if I am forever a remnant of the past, that there are people creating the future, right now, but I shall never know just what that is like, being even too slow to experience the present, lagging behind the current and genuine hours. Have I spent too much of my days dreaming? Was I not once young, ahead of the speed of all this progress, or was that a dream, too? I think back, and wonder at the youth who let these things slip by, imagining that time would never forget him. I let go of the reins of life, back then, thinking I could catch up, just race and seize things again. But look at me, who can only see what he has done, knowing not if what he does right now affects anything, if there really is a future at all. Time flies.
Bart
8:16pm friday, 25th june
same feelings, difficult to "shape" daily living.Greetz from Antwerp
Bart