Forever and a day or two

Do I really have time ?

Since birth, we are conditioned to believe that we have all of the time in the world, until you grow and realise you were running a marathon in a race against time ever since your clock started ticking.

It’s relatively easy to say “I’ll do it tomorrow” but it’s so much harder to come to terms with the fact that this ‘tomorrow’ you speak of isn’t in fact guaranteed.

If you were to be shown a countdown timer that indicated the remaining seconds, minutes and years of your life, would you have lived differently? Would you have safeguarded the long list of words that you knew shouldn’t have been said, naive to the fact that they will echo in the hearts of whoever they were directed to for the rest of their lives?

Or do you dwell on the words that should have been said that are now forever lost in the fragments of time?

Sometimes in the midst of long conversations with my parents, my mind seems to delve into the thought that this very conversation will be cemented in history as it gets stored as a memory that I’ll one day look back to, that will one day be all that’s left of them alongside a legacy continued through their progeny.

It’s almost like planning to fly a kite anticipating a breezy day, forgetting that you’re not guaranteed that the wind will blow.

It’s like telling kids to prepare for a white Christmas, forgetting that the clouds may not gift you with snow, life is full of uncertainties but is riddled with endless possibilities and unfortunately spells of regret if you let time get the best of you.

I often wondered how many things were swept under the carpet with the intention of being revisited at another day, but were never returned to.

Based on this, it’s safe for me to say that the grave is undoubtedly rich in groundbreaking ideas and revolutionary concepts that could have possibly been brought to fruition if they just happened to be given a fraction of the time we take for granted on a day to day basis.

However, once it is understood that we are under the constant pressures of time, often this is where greatness is achieved and importantly you begin your lifelong process of self-actualisation, the journey to see who you really are.

I can only hope that myself and your own focus is honed on the things that actually matter in the grand scheme of things, because there is so much that can occupy your time without bearing any form of tangible benefit for yourself and your future.

The mortality of our loved ones hangs in the balance as we’re not promised each day, but it’s only by grace that they awaken to the warm embrace of morning light.

Time is the most expensive commodity because unlike money it doesn’t exist in circulation, once time is gone it is lost forever, so be mindful of who you give it to and guard yourself against spending endless years pursuing a false reality to find that in actuality you were only wasting time itself.

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Impaired Vision (Nary)

I was told that in order to see where one intends to be you’d have to possess vision.

But what they failed to tell me is that this vision will only be empowered by how well you could listen.

So as I closed my eyes and opened my ears I began to see more than I ever have before.

As I travelled through this lucid journey of realisation, not only did I find out how short sighted I was but how impaired our vision can be.

Stumbling blocks of the mind alongside the reminiscence of times where you and failure became friends, birthing shame upon your name.

Or that moment of vulnerability where you finally revealed a segment of your vision to a friend who only told you to “stop daydreaming again”, I dare you to hold on.

I urge you to be strong because one day they’ll see what you see because the untold truth is that the impaired vision of a visionary cannot remain blurry forever.

You can only knock on doors so much before they’re forced to let you enter, but if they don’t, let your vision lead you to a window of opportunity.

See, shockingly, the impairment of your vision can only be as blinding as you let it, so you can choose to open one eye to the realities of the world and the other to your God-given capability to win. Or they can both remain shut as you continue to live a life without acknowledging the gifts you hold within.

Remember there is a beauty in your vision but this is tested by your patience and ability to see through the darkness of your nights.

And radiate so violently that even those without sight would know that the vision you hold cannot possibly be compared to the likes of silver nor gold.

If only you could see further than you could reach.

/by

The Curious Case of Rebecca Crawford

Have you ever seen a bouquet made of black roses that grew in between the cracks of the pavement? I have.

I watched as this flower blossomed and I watched as it withered away, lost in the movement of time but nonetheless unforgettable in its nature.

In a vaguely lit flat lay the contorted body of a young woman who was once filled to the brim with the contents of a fulfilling life.

How she slipped through the gaps within society remained my biggest mystery up to today, but one thing was for sure

I had known at this point that as welcoming as I am, her passing into my arms was premature.

Her name is Rebecca Crawford and in case you’re wondering I just happen to be the greatest detective to have ever died and an old friend named death.

 

Now surprisingly, as Rebecca was born I was taking my daily stroll on Myrtle Avenue which lay adjacent to the hospital,

and instead of my heart filling with scorn since that’s one more person I’d have to monitor from dusk to dawn, curiosity gripped me.

Typically, I must mention, that I stepped through the door with the same holographic but unnoticeable stride,

As the naive humans celebrated the births of their loved ones but forgetting that it also marks their death sentence.

See you can run from me but not a soul can possibly hide.

I entered the delivery room and one thing that took me by surprise was the sharpness of her eyes.

They had the same consistency of darkness and light that her great grandmother possessed when she met her demise.

But I knew she was different.

 

Day and night as I watched Rebecca grow, I never got bored of her ambience. With every pace she took she revealed more about the complexities of her being,

but also it’s mysteries that seemed to plague her, what was she hiding?

And more importantly, I normally see through the shallow self-centred depths of humans but confusingly somehow through Rebecca I couldn’t see.

Was I losing my touch or is her inevitable end the first one in history that was actually beyond me?

I’ve been doing this job for too long and it gets boring watching people’s lives play out to the same old song.

Initially, I thought that Rebecca’s existence will follow the same tune, but boy have I never been so wrong.

 

At the age of 19, Rebecca had proved to me that my strange but intuitive hunch about her uniqueness was indeed no matter of coincidence.

What I deemed as another lethargic day at university (she didn’t seem one bit interested in her course) was due to twist into a series of unexplainable events that even I couldn’t comprehend.

For a reason unknown I watched as she took the long way home. It was a late afternoon many winters ago so you can imagine how dimly lit her surroundings must have been.

Ironically the rain began to spit as I drew nearer to the bus stop she decided to sit at, even the weather cannot contain his emotions in my presence.

It was almost like the weather knew that I was coming for an adolescent boy stood right beside Rebecca, so indulged in the ending of his game that he couldn’t have seen his own end approaching him in the form of a bus driver who had lost control of his life and his vehicle.

 

While I approached the boy with the same embrace that millions had once experienced,  the continuous nature of time had been unexpectedly interrupted and I immediately felt the loss of power.

It only occurred to me after the event that Rebecca had foreseen my coming.

Before I even arrived, she had already seen the distracted driver partially mount the curb while onlookers stared in horror as the boy lay lifeless, undisturbed.

So she decided to change his destiny by grabbing him by the collar and pushing him to safety while she herself misses the collision by mere inches.

It was almost like she had read my script before the curtains were drawn and the show began. But what she didn’t know was that saving the boy from his destiny altered her own forever

 

Now I would explain what happens next, but I’m a bit busy you see and If you’re wondering how death could be this occupied, all you’ll have to do is turn on your T.V.

/by