The possible future

Sometimes I see that end of the tunnel. As if, what if, how else, et cetera. I see it clearly, as if in some altered state. Right now it is black and white and like a movie. Here it plays, no chance of rewinding, but it does have alternate endings. But that clarity is still so vague, so ambiguous and foreign. I live here and now. Living in the pool of my thoughts. Thinking through the forest of ponderings and trains available for departure and return. Where do they go, more importantly, where do they stop? All in one vast photograph of the past present and future. What a vague representation of the specific times emotions and feelings of people closest to me. The permanence of past, liquidity of love, and frailty of life itself. The day to day ebb and flow of each action, thought, and idea. It all wanes together in some force in this whole world. While being watched through the judging eyes of our own audience. Our audience of fools and lovers. The pressure. The fate... What we call life.