(no subject)
Someone elses thoughts on the fleetingness of time.
"I wonder: How many more times will I see them? More than my fingers? I help them load their luggage. Good to see you. It’s been great. Ten? Nine? Eight?
I tend to watch my wife longingly as she leaves rooms. Sometimes, I stand awhile and stare at closed doors.
I waved through the window at my daughter. Maybe, as she said, for the last time. She is so my daughter. So originally sad. Went back inside and picked her up. She’s getting so heavy. There will be a last time. I try to remember this when I’m holding her perfect little hand in parking lots. There will be a last time. How much longer will she need to kiss both my cheeks before she goes to sleep? There will be a last time. Nothing lasts. Each and every time is propped against the last time. The present is made of all gone things."
-twinyv
"I wonder: How many more times will I see them? More than my fingers? I help them load their luggage. Good to see you. It’s been great. Ten? Nine? Eight?
I tend to watch my wife longingly as she leaves rooms. Sometimes, I stand awhile and stare at closed doors.
I waved through the window at my daughter. Maybe, as she said, for the last time. She is so my daughter. So originally sad. Went back inside and picked her up. She’s getting so heavy. There will be a last time. I try to remember this when I’m holding her perfect little hand in parking lots. There will be a last time. How much longer will she need to kiss both my cheeks before she goes to sleep? There will be a last time. Nothing lasts. Each and every time is propped against the last time. The present is made of all gone things."
-twinyv