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“The pure present is an ungraspable advance of the past devouring the future. In truth, all sensation is already memory.”
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
I can hear the past crashing behind me
great chunks of time peeling off
a giant chasm opening up
where my feet once trod
there is no turning back
with time propelling me
faster and faster into the future
as I grasp in desperation for the now
the past rumbling on my heels
relentless
what happens if I stop?
will the chasm swallow me?
will the past eat up my present and my future?
how long can I hover on the edge of a precipice
with no turning back?
the future beckons
just as relentless…
The other 