Mondays are just young Fridays

I seem to forget how quickly
everything, in this age of instant,
becomes the past.
Random thoughts, photographs,
journal entries, grocery lists, facts,
fashion and faith captured in the
moment will soon only represent
What it is becomes what it was.
Our memory banks are brimming,
perhaps more eventful than the
current account of our lives.
The past affects the present, now
becomes when, even if we try to
do it all again.
We can’t relive the past; it has passed.
How do we deal with change when it
happens again and again? You can’t
prepare when you don’t know what is
there. You can only go with the flow.

This summer, in an attempt to
keep up or catch up, I will post
thoughts as they come to mind, or
dig into older notebooks without
regard for place or time.
It might be easy, it may get harsh,
but it will be my current reality.
Honesty, flaws and all, with no
time to edit and not enough time
to forget it.
Not all of my activity will appear
right here. You can have a look at
Instagram, every once in a while,
for night thoughts, a daily breath,
or the occasional smile.

07/02/2018                                           j.g.l.

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