You sit, working your way through your ice cream cone, not knowing: when it's gone, you got nothing but to wait to die. And at some point, you sit with a thimble-sized remainder of the cone left, and you begin to shake your head, downcast, forgetting so easily that you just gorged on delicious ice cream, consumed instead by a moment of emptiness and loss.
You did that and then forget, consumed by what was to come, thoughts only on future conquests, and not remembering the face of your father.
We are so much going from A to B that we are more focused on putting ducks in a row for the moments to come, rather than enjoying the present moment. We would rather complain about television than have a moment of mindful silence.
The ice cream cone doesn't even rate a soda cracker, for never do we just sit with its icy goodness in one hand, and a vanilla mustache on our own person, enjoying the moment apart from all other hindrances.
No comments:
Post a Comment