On the Morrow

What delicate times such as these, that the masses are forced to ponder what could be on the morrow. Day in and day out, like the ebb and flow of the tide. One must wonder what will wash up on the shores of life, but at the same time the possibilities are as many as the ocean is deep. The challenge of the day is knowing that what lies beneath the surface is probably the most esoteric of concerns in all actuality.

One thing that is for certain is that the seasons will change as surely as they will bring change. Will one rise the occasion and proclaim victory forevermore? Or will the agony of defeat be thy bedfellow? An excellent question, perhaps more fitting for another time. As for the task at hand, attempting to grab life by the horns and do what is best with whatever momentum we may deem opportune.

Where the time goes, probably hither and yon. Pushing ever so fervently with great hope for whatever we may find on the morrow. Everyone likes to fancy themselves the hero of their own story, if only for a fleeting moment. Even if it means forgetting the bitter truth that not everyone is truly created equal. For how else can this ephemeral existence mean anything more than a whisper in the night juxtaposed with the vastness of eternity?

How will our miscellaneous idiosyncrasies hold up in the world that is beyond us all on the morrow? Will the trinkets of the past still hold their luster countless eons from now? Perhaps rust will be in fashion in the time over yonder. One would be hard pressed to find a person that does not wish for their adventures to go on forevermore.

How ironic that so many among he unwashed masses focus on legacy when the world actually pertains to the past instead of the future. So you see, mankind’s greatest weakness is being forced to put a limit to what can be accomplished on the morrow. In a world that is so painfully finite, how cruel to force eternity into what is considered a lifetime. What agony that causes the spirit to go numb instead of finding a way to lift the heart.

What an epic journey it has been. Through ups and downs and the aforementioned ebbs and flows, it is easy to feel like a castaway at times. That is until the sudden realization hits that ultimate victory has been secured. That actually makes coping in the meantime all the better. The answers may not always be as obvious as we would like. Indeed, it seems to be common practice to take for granted that which eternity does not guarantee to everyone. However, that simply means that conquering the ghosts of the past present and future has been all the more satisfying.

The thrill of victory it is, through relentless mockery and come what may. There can be no better revenge that winning the contest of wills on the apex level of existence, free of the subjectivity of buffoons. It has been a war for the ages that has been raging on since countless eons past. One that has been won in spectacular fashion for all the world to see. Cling to the past if that is your pleasure, but know that thine is a suffering that will not cease on the morrow. Nay, the cheers of the victorious shall be thy torment. As for the realm of good, we will always think that today is the best day with each revolution of the sun and all of the corresponding clockwork forevermore.

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