The year - then, now and then again.

I have blamed time for its existence and unusual ways of bringing change. Pondered a bit on the idea and realized that I have never and will never, understand the purpose of its existence. It never stops, never turns around and can not been seen but only felt. Its path is forward and straight and it does not digress. Once gone, it leaves a sense of disbelief in the human mind making us think where it went and what was lost. The only rationale for it to be alive is to ultimately end itself.

There is a “right time” and a “bad time”, both close friends taking turns in human life to bring about change. Their combination inflicts conflicting change on human lives. If “right time” is alive and ends, it’s the start of “bad time” for some, “right time” for a few and nothing for others. If “bad time” is alive and ends, it’s the right end for the one living it, but could be the start of “bad time” for another. Do they really exist and are responsible for bringing about the change, or are they mere units of imagination called ups and downs of life?

As the sun sets and a new dawn waits, the strength of my inner pessimism wakes and shouts in despair reminding me of the time that was lost. There have been gains, but that is a satisfaction of the body which will wither as its time comes to an end. The loss on the other hand stains the soul and makes it brood over that which cannot be, that which can be, and that which could have been.

Words are a mirror to the mind, while the face and voice are a mirror to the heart. Together they explore the loss and rattle the soul. With words weak, face pale and voice trembling my mirror reflection gives me nothing.

What is, cannot be. What can be, is not. That is the puzzle. That is the game. That is the joke. That, is time.

No, I don't feel a thing
Life's going by me
But still I say
Oh God I'm making the same mistakes

Low?
I'm on empty
Try to erase all the bad times
Free?
I don't seem to be
My soul remains tied to your life

Every breath you breathe deep
I feel you circulating through me
I'll never forgive myself again
I'm so sick and tired of making the same mistakes

God help me
God help me
God help me

(Because of the corruption in the human heart)