Obligatory Oblivion
W e're on our way. The Great Attractor won't be denied—so we might as well enjoy the ride—I'll make no promise to meet you on the other side. Please humor me and allow me to digress. Forever dancing on the edge of oblivion, as we commiserate with life long past and life that's soon to pass, because nothing ever lasts. Oh that is so resplendent, 'tis a shame you can't wear it as a pendant—never knowing how long your body will extend its autonomous, finite fight to "Rage, rage against the dying of the light." Quotations are insufficient to console such a loss. Tears will flow, even then, at any cost, and we may ask ourselves: "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them?" Did even William Shakespeare know? Winged, my mind takes to the skies. Navigation will be improvised, as the destination is unsure. I'll let you know
