Snapshots and lifetimes

A snapshot becomes a lifetime, and I, conscious of getting somewhere, did not savour it, did not savour what was good. Is that true? Perhaps my gut has always driven me to move on. The times I have not moved on fast enough are the times I have regretted. I have never regretted moving on.

Where I lived, we never had this view. I lived surrounded by houses. It is easy to remember it differently. Some words come back easy, the names of things, of places, but it’s the connecting words that make the sense. That’s the same in any place. We all know what we want, but not how we might get it. The trouble with wanting peace is, I can’t help thinking: but for what? Then what?
And here, this view all around me, in the dark I can hear all the other lives.

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