Birdsong – George Ogilvie
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgqEsgMI6xU
‘Time’ is a true narrative of real wealth. Why? Because, besides sci-fi, fiction domains and research hypothesis and theories, neither anyone in the past had ever earned it nor anyone ever will. At least, not until the interstellar or a singularity is fully revealed to our domestic science. Good chances are that, this will never happen, although hopes are promising. Yes, let’s hope, but until that happens, we are conditioned to exist in an intersection, a trap between the future and the past. An infinite crosswalk they named ‘present’.
The ‘present’ is a fleeting point-in-time where we exist, thrive, this is where we play our brief, long parts, this is where we make choices, think, connect, love, grieve, act, share, work, rest and do everything we have ever known, for we all know, you and I both don’t have any tangible access to either our past or the future.
‘Now’ is all we have.
But these days, Ignorant, idiot, dumbbell, us all, take time for granted.
Because, if you are to closely look around, more objectively — most of the time your observation will tell that we are more likely to keep ourselves engaged or busy doing nothing. Doing not-a-thing of any use. That we have clearly forgotten the essence of shortness of our lives, that we have sold our life to these smart-phones and apps and notifications and social image and validation. And above all that, what surprises me the most is that no body talks about these chaining, changing, obliterating, degrading human life culture. Most certainly, we have accepted, acknowledged such wrongs as the demand of time, as the new trend, as fake-real and as fine-faked definition of living in the 21st century world.
Today more than ever, we are so winded up in shits that we have no time to neither love heart-fully nor grieve. No time for ourselves but sure enough we’d invest any amount of our days and nights in scrolling, searching, procrastinating … instead of learning, growing and soulfully rejoicing with whatever’s served on the plate.
Apologies but as human, we human are more full of craps, crap ideals, crap talks, gossips, crap hollow self.
We have truly lost it in how memories are made and time lived.
We are present in the present void the feel of being present, in presence of the present.
Ignorant, idiot, dumbbell, us all, spill, spit, waste time as if we own it.
Lastly, on an ending note: Once, for the sake of yourself, please take sometime off of your phone, take a break, turn off the wheel, disconnect, breathe and connect to what is real. Re-assess your life, the lifestyle. Re-build.
Song shared by
Pukar Shrestha
(The pukuman)
