Have we lived multiple lives now? Is each stage in Life simply the Death of another one?
It seems so, when I was a child, I lived a life widely different than now. My thoughts, my motivations were different. There were other people in that chapter.
Chapter?
It was a whole story, all of its own. But that story ended, so did the child.
And so did the adolescent, the teenager, and the young adult. Stories finished, characters dead.
I keep seeing death, and a lot of change. I slowly watch myself die, all my former selves are gone, but not entirely. I sometimes feel them inside me, they sometimes come out.
Surreal…
It is happy sometimes, sometimes sad. The visits remind me that those times and those stories were real. That they weren’t made up and that this whole thing isn’t a dream.
Or is it?
Alas, the times, those times are gone and those those characters are still dead and gone.
Dead and Gone or far out of reach. Will they welcome me when the Final Death comes for me? Or will I find them first, tuned into their frequency?
I don’t know… things click one moment, and they fall apart the next.
This old black guitar stares at me and takes me back to a place, to people that are no more.
I look away, I don’t want to look at it anymore.
It reminds me… and it reminds me of the passage of time.