last thoughts before sleep

Letting something die that you trully love is not an easy thing to do. Especially when it's passing will leave you alone in a big empty house and a storm on the way. Knowing that a time is gone and will never return, or even be able to be remebered accurately stirrs a horror in me more than I would like to comfortably admit. And what a heartbreaking realization it is to learn that your attempts to try and sustain life in something, by it's very nature ready and wanting to be left behind, are a howling embarassment of failed effort; pathetic and meek. And time is always passing. It will not wait for you to compose yourself in order to handle every new moment with a natural or even pre-meditated cool. It will pass you up if you are not it's best friend and become your worst enemy if you second guess or try to fuck with it. Time is not a wise old man with a white beard. It is a self righteous, fervid, punk-ass kid. too immature to use it's power and popularity for anything but manipulation, deception and cruelty.