Sands on the winds of time….

This morning marking of another day gone by with in my ever filling diary, it occurred to me just how finite this all is, that each day crossed is another gone never to be reclaimed, one step nearer to the totality of life.

Each day is marked out, with date and time, one day the date and time will be my last, yet still the dates march on, always constant in there progress. When I reach the end and am no more the dates will still go on, each hour will pass, each day will form as if I never was.

One more passing day in the diary of my life. Flipping forwards things to do, things moved from yesterday to today and tomorrow, events passing, events to come all dictated by time, her pale momentum moving on and on, myself powerless in my plight as I move towards the end.

Even if I drag my heals and kick and scream, I can not stop her flight, she will not pause for me, she will not stop, ever closer to the end I go, all fades into pale insignificance as day by day the time just slips away.

Flipping forwards in my diary, dates to come, meetings here, and meetings there, this to do and that to do, hours slipping by. Just when did I buy in to all of this? How did I become so lost in the pages of my diary. I do not recall ever agreeing to this, its just evolved around me, happened, one tiny date then another and yet more, each in turn filling up the pages of my diary, my time, my life.

I never wanted this, I never asked for this and yet it happens, my life planned out before me and page after page in the diary of time crossed through, marked out ,gone spiralling off into another plane, lost for all of time.

Is this my future so neatly marked by my own hand, is this all that I have to look forward to? My life mapped out like a grid before me, ordered, equal, right? Just how did I become such a part of a system I can not stand, another wheel in the cogs of society’s motion? Am I really as bad, buying into a dream of false happiness, burying my head in the sand of life’s delusional shores? How did this happen? How can it be? is this what I have become? Is this the way its meant to be? Page by page crossed out until my diary’s final page for me and out I slip and go?

What about my dreams? My plans? I see no space left in my diary of time? Can I fit them in before my 3 O’clock and half past 2? If this is all so planned then why do I feel like rebelling? Why do I feel like pushing it all away, this is not for me!

 Still empty slots in my diary to fill, still more time to come, more appointments and meetings on and on relentless in her course time ticks each day will pass until the final page is torn and I am gone forever just dust on the wind’s of time.

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~ by Duma Key on July 9, 2008.

One Response to “Sands on the winds of time….”

  1. Thanks for the post

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