MOMENTS.

Moments. What are they? They are the present. They are the now. They are all we have. The past is not lived in the moment nor is the future, for they do not exist; only what you have matters in the moment. Only what you are, matters. Not what you were, not what you will be. You ARE in the moment, you ARE the moment. Everything else is a figment of your imagination, for it does not matter at that moment.

But here I sit, at this moment, in this moment only thinking of what I once was and what I will be. Was and will, both terms used to describe the unreal, the nonexistent. Both words, used daily in my thought process. Fiction is all I know. It’s all I’ve known. So much time spent on this fiction. 

Moments are meant to be lived. Only that which holds life can be lived. Moments have life. Life is a moment. What came before the moment is dead. What comes after that moment has not not lived yet. They do not hold life. So they cannot be lived. And here I am, trying to find life in them. No wonder I feel so “just existing”. 

I am what I was and will be, but never have I ever been, I am.