fugitive.

Very briefly, I lifted myself and brought the pillow closer to my back, put my head on the edge of the bed and looked up-
Up at my wall that has some paintings I drew before I turned eighteen, some fairy lights I had insisted on buying, polaroids of my friends and I back when life was a lot less complicated and fairly simple, a Van Gogh starry night frame and it came to me like a sweep of winter wind –

That none of this is going to stay with me forever.

For instance, my paintings will gather a reasonable amount of dust and all the colours would unsaturate eventually.
Those lights will no longer work and twinkle in the middle of the night making me feel warm.
The polaroids will dilapidate and wear out when it’s time, curl from the edges and fall.
The frame will crack and the painting underneath will die out eventually.

But it’s also not just these that won’t last a time span.

Tis I too.
Tis life too.

It is convincingly strange at how life offers you a bittersweet moment of truth and realization that all of what you have, will one day stop working. Even that heart we got pumping in the middle of our chest will stop when it’s time.

I’d rather, these things came with time slots so I’d know when to expect them to die out.

Viz. The lights have stopped twinkling today.