Living In The Whenever

I'm not ready to deal with finality...

I'm too immersed in the present. My past still hangs on like a symbiotic leech. The future seems to be a hazy memory that hasn't happened yet. The present, however, is fresh and bright. Red and green, like untouched Christmas wrapping.

There is a newness to the present that is absolutely undeniable, but completely misleading.

The present, you see, is either constantly passing or eternally ahead.

It doesn't exist.

The idea of the present is what we proclaim, but there is no truth to it.

The second the present happens, it slips away.

The past is made up of ghosts; the future, of animated prophets.

The present dies as soon as it is born.

This is nothing to mourn, for it simply is what it is. It's liberating, actually. When idealists who can't remember what they idealized tell you to live for the present, you can have full knowledge that the very act of living for the “now” is impossible.

Where is this pessimism coming from? Wasn't this the fount that was made to proclaim positive truth?

Yes, indeed it is. There is no pessimism in admitting that the present doesn't exist, anymore than it isn't negative to deny the statements of “living in the now.”

Here's what I have chosen to live for: I live to leave a pristine ghost. I live to grasp an untouched future.

Living in the present is impossible. Living in comfortable shoes is attainable.