The waking life becomes a dream. It moves so fast there is no time to come to terms with the present moment. Instead, time is spent on changing - fixing the life that is being lived. Rather than commit the present moment to memory, it is analyzed and filed away for evidence that things are not going the way we want them to.
And what remains? After the changes have been made, goals accomplished? Fleeting, ephemeral images of past days. Where even the faces of our people start to fade, and their names are no longer remembered.
Is there any other way to live?
Email me: cjd AT debolske DOT net--->Key<---
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