Monday, January 25, 2010

A day in a blink





"Old George," that's how they call him. He doesn't care, sounds affectionate. As years pass by he notices days shorten, to a point where they seem to last a few minutes. "Days are now dreamy. Is the dream of life," he asserts. Events that were certain to be real are not anymore, like living in a cloud, everything's foggy and mysterious.

"Life comes and goes. Some things are sticky, others not," George says. When asked about what's sticky he just burbles one word, "People." No more, no less. It's all about people.

"I used to think I was immortal and that I'd never die--made of steel or some indestructible material," he says, "but I realized I'll die someday and we are very fragile--made of crystal." The winter of his life,  days come and go, like a wave hitting the beach. "Same old, same old," he adds, "nothing changes. I see days folding faster and faster. If I blink, another day passes by; that's the way it is."

Maybe he's right, maybe life is made of dreams: life is an eternal dream. Maybe we are just dreaming; when we wake up a totally different world will appear--like being born again--and then life will start over and everything will be new and exciting.

We shouldn't forget that life is actually new and exciting--age doesn't matter...

Life is what we make of it...