The Beautiful Accident
Today feels like an accident. We wake, we rush, we dream, pretending time is endless. Yet every breath is a small rebellion against nothingness. Perhaps the meaning of this day is not to understand it, but to taste it before it dissolves into night, leaving only a star to illuminate a single moment.
I count every minute. Rushing is true, no dreams are left and no way back. I am aware since long I am running out of time.
I hope you are well.
Steem on!