it feels a tad long, our time here. if the point is procreation, it could have been done quicker. as the days keep unfolding i wonder what the point of all this? why am i here and what is all this nonsense? why must we have so much time, so much stuff, so many people and so many highs and lows? this is one of the things I would pose if i could ask at the end any questions i could think of.

i expect an answer like this-we have the time to build it all up and then let it fall apart. enough time to start projects, see them to completion, then watch them slowly come apart. long enough for you to head home, watch tv, waste your youth and find your true love. then grow older, lament about the time past, question your decisions and repeat enough to make a dent in your own little circle. enough time to be done with it, although at the end it seems few want to leave.

but leave we must. the flow of it all goes right out the door, back into dust. our time, a blip in our history, will be forgotten by all. whatever significant progress we made on the house or garden will fall apart, our money will be worth nothing and our friends and family will also fade till no memory of us last at all. just a noise in the woods we were, a fleeting light that felt so important when it was happening. a moment etched somewhere among the memorials, in stone, to anyone that will spend their own time looking.