Amber and I kick ass?
Amber and I are little hurricanes that are joining forces and creating such a tight spiral spinning so fast that nothing can escape us; get past our sets of eyes but our minds are sure to catch debris that you call dirt when it's really raw diamond.
She handed me a piece of paper with the first phrase on it on a bleary sunrise after 24+ hours of waking life; at least half of that was filled with music that can make a grown man disintegrate.
In the wee hours of the morning, this is how it came together.
A:
"This is your life; and it's ending one minute at a time."
J:
How many minutes do we have left? Do I have time to get on a plane to the east coast?, - will I make it to the snow for one last glimpse if I start driving (speeding) now? - Or should I start running is death nipping at my heels?
A:
:60 second time lapse:
This is your life; and it's ending one minute at a time.
J:
"Is this a game? Or is it real?
...
...
...
THERE'S NO DIFFERENCE"
A:
:60 day time lapse:
THIS IS YOUR LIFE; AND ITS ENDING ONE DAY AT A TIME.
J:
Okay, the urgency of the message dropped, from a severe red to an orange or yellow level; Now there's a 60 day time lapse before a stern sentence (all in CAPs might I add) just appears out of nowhere and scolds me. I would hate to live my life (that way), haunted by those looming threats! Thank god this paper isn't the basis for my reality, although the "real" one/my real experience isn't that much better: - shockingly uncomfortable, a whole species racing to reach imaginary moments, one after another. Oh fellow humans and benevolent creator Your Highness, look at what a magnificent heap of crap you've created this time. Look at the backstabbing brothers stand up for only themselves, so precisely, that in time the body becomes just a whittled stick. Reporting for duty, America's future corpses!
A:
:60 year time lapse:
this is your life; and it's now over.
You lose.