they could have been right all along

They could have been right all along, maybe every moment was precious, every breath important. Warm air caresses my face, white drifts slowly through blue. Passing over land. A messenger for those who choose to pay attention. Alcoholics can control a slight swagger, get used to their disease. Who can get who to fig. 2. Learn to ignore the clock. Mistake looking at one and quickly forgot the story it told. How much we’ve spun since you last noticed. Did time take place, just incidents, just accidents, all aligned neatly with a framework already in place. I am not anything, but my own decay. Every step brings us closer, pulses the time along. The second every step lands, it changes direction, becomes the past. Future step forward, present step landing and past step taken. All one motion. Death, birth and gaining knowledge all in one vessel. There weren’t three ghosts, there was only one. Three different eyes looking at it. No, a million different ways, a million different spirits teaching a million different lessons. The eventual waning or immanent death that they all represent is just another step. Another lesson. I breath it in again. I think I think too much. Maybe I’m not, bring my head back, look out the window again. I’m inside, but I think I’m in a huge field somewhere. 

Footsteps—fucking doorbell.