Fine lines to wrinkles.
Not all of us gets the curved lines but we will all get the flat line.
A day to start but the end is already scripted just other actors are aware.
The actor on stage will take a bow and only when the curtain falls will he know that his time is up. Never to return to that stage.
The new scene is forever. The audience will be in awe but they will soon keep on watching other actors because little by little, they will all play on that stage and take the final bow.
It is a merry-go-round. New actors take the stage, old actors fade away but eternity beacons for all.
One day soon, routine will be a shadow, life will start again but not the life you used to know but it’d be the life you must have. The one you know is a screenplay, temporal, a countdown with a timer.
An interlude to precede the actual reality. So while the counter counts, make it count for you. It can disappear as sudden as a mirage, flickering glimmer of vanish.
Words won’t reach, hugs won’t warm, cold as ice, bed in earth, soil and grass, grace to glory.
Son of man, what is your toil. The kiss of death, just a key for another door. What’s on the other side?
Where are these people going? Is it all a straight line with a queue or is it random numbers and a raffle draw? Is the birth angel a twin to the death angel constantly accompanying each other?
Mortality such a descriptive word we understand but immortality is what we’d experience even when abstract.
It is baffling that some push others to their curtain call, some do everything to stay on that stage even when they know they should bow, some jump out too early because they no longer want to act the script and somehow all these is being observed in this movie called life.
Even the actors are not aware of the motions even though they know they are being observed.
Eventually they forget that they have been on the stage all along part of Acts and Scenes.
And suddenly the curtain falls on an ordinary day in the middle of an Act and somehow they are forced to take the stage again in a new location they can never come back from.
Funny enough, some get a do-over on the stage but most just get one chance and that’s it. In the end, ending is mercy… At least for as long or short that duration before the transition is.
We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed. The end is just the beginning.
Xoxo,
Dcconoisseur.
Connoisseur of Memories 