Gobbledygook Blues of Future Regrets

1-130P1111112Time has its classic humor in which the moment we knew that the end of our time is near–our earthly knowledge gradually grow that leads into a vast of realization; and there is this sudden shift of perspective, perchance. Hence, we developed this little irrational instinct to protract time even its split seconds and learn to appreciate even the tiniest form of matter that we would not recognize unless it got to our nerve; even we developed this fervency to discover and explore what we never will soon. Perhaps, unveiling world’s great mystery, maybe, or venturing the most unfathomable many face of water which many life had taken just for it to be discovered. Even we became more ravenous or greedy of some things we believe we should have had, or we come in submission to indulgence that may temporarily divert our thoughts from the fact that we’re ending.

Sometimes our thoughts leapfrog into something like our great disgust how science is still in its elementary, and how it promise us many facts to make life easily reach its optimum level, but it never did saved us nor prevent our time reaching its end. In fact, it gravitates the dumbing down of society and introduce passivity to the young ones in a way that common sense has been greatly suppressed by means of its mere creation, technology. This technology that stole our time worth to be spent with real humans; this technology that stealth genuine interactions between humans, nevertheless, has been still our priority, blinded by the fact that it induced the probability of decaying our time prior to our end.

We tend to also lose our gaze and trap in that isolated moment and see that our toils were of no value, and therefore deem that everything we built is nothing but a house of cards, sooner will be scattered. Thereafter, we wish to time travel and seek to spend time with our loved ones instead, rather than rummage for economical advancement, and power or great authority. Ergo, this will be left as a wish for there is no way of going back. This, and that, and there are so much regrets and yet, we just laughed to ourselves of how much fool we became that we never used our time when we still have plenty of those things with of great significance like something eternal, maybe. Or that kind of regret in which we count non-existing memories than those memories that we have treasured–during our deathbed.


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