Today

is just realty, the only one we know, at once, forever good and bad. Yesterday, tomorrow don't exist and expectation doesn't mean a thing. You cannot find them anywhere, and you are not alone. In fact I am afraid you too, do not exist, although I thought you did. Alas, I cannot bring you back; it seems you only knew for just that hoary old split second, (gone among the ages) how to occupy my consciousness. It's pretty silly, isn't it, this game we play with time, though accurate enough. We never seem to get it figured out, and blindly stumble on our way, manufacturing the seconds as we go-- looking at them (sometimes) through our fingers as they fall; then vanishing forever. A man just has to fudge to celebrate a life-- or anything at all. Heroics fade, and histrionics too, along with saints and evil-doers smashing heads, and even disillusioning the pretty girls behind their neighbor's gate. And then, as if there weren't enough confusion, there they go, those ghostly seconds chopping off our time to meditate--but that is merely our intent, and like experience just another chimera; and that of course, so lacking substance that it cannot see light of day. My God! Like me? ~