Life flows past, a river of time, ever changing but constant.
Caught in its current as it pushes onwards, we cannot fight against it. All we can do is get by, survive until the next day.
I consider it a bonus to wake, to see the sun, hear the birds singing and to feel the wind on my skin once again.
I consider it magical to find friends along the way, as I am washed relentlessly downstream, towards the oceans of oblivion.
Such is life; my life anyway.
Perhaps, by some miracle or off-chance, I may have fallen into another river, a gentle stream or a babbling brook. Life may have been different.
Or maybe it will change or alter. Maybe a current will pull me to the bank, a gentle eddy swirl me to the shore or pour me into a lesser torrent.
Although I doubt it shall; however hard I may wish or pray.
The world is not like that.
In this world you have little control over your existence.
Such is life. Your life.
We have what we are given, all else is but illusion.
Which is why it is important to grasp the simplest of moments, the slightest of chance, however small, however insignificant each may seem at the time.
We should have no regrets for reaching out, for caring, for showing love and affection.
Or for taking the same, accepting the comfort of another’s arms. To be pulled close. To feel warmth and soft tender flesh during those times our hearts and souls ache with longing and unfulfilled dreams.
Accept the little victories over uncontrolled chaos, over life’s unjust consequence.
We have no knowledge of where this river of life will take us, how long we shall ride its currents or where our passage will end.
We know only our journey will be far too short.
The future is not our place of residence.
Ours is the journey.
Unpredictable, uncontrollable and arbitrarily erratic.
Such is life.