This piece is about a conversation with God.
We are victims to time. Every motion of ours is within the constraints of this ticking time bomb of a reality. We’re court jesters for life, playing symphonies as we sink in the heat death of the universe, dancing our little dances. Cosmic dots in the scale of eternity.
It’s an entirely powerless position. Knowing something as pure as Grandmother's unconditional love withers without a trace and the universe would be none the wiser. We are grateful to be loved and feel rightfully entitled to life. We get trapped in the lunacy of the small scale and have no choice but to be an actor and audience member in the play of mortality. I love life and resent how it must end. I wonder what’s next and have no choice but to live a righteous life in hopes there’s more frequencies we can thrive on. I hope and I pray at the end of this we meet again.
It’s what you do to me.
