1,000ft/s

"Father time" is often depicted as this decrepit old man with a long gray beard and staff. I used to accept this image without a second thought until it finally dawned on me that time flies and often kicks up a lot of dust in the process. So to imagine time as that old man seems to be inaccurate, right? But said image of the old man is more imposing and evocative of wisdom. A speeding rabbit would be insulting and riddled with naïveté, right? So the serious old man stands firm and strong and wise. One is less likely to mess with an elder given their experience and this sort of respect that they automatically draw from younger generations. At least, I think so. If I were to speak with someone who's 75 years old, I would most likely ask them their life story and listen as attentively as I could.

As to help me deal with the savage forward flow of time. You know, the one that doesn't care if you need to slow down. It'll just keep going; deaf, blind, mute, savage, uncaring, and wise.

It's a bit of drag when time just zooms past you leaving you wet and bewildered. Or in the dust and confused. But this probably has something to do with a boomerang effect in which actions and experiences repeat themselves in varying degrees of intensity, upon returning to a particular spot. You could say building up tolerance to certain events but that doesn't mean that things get easier; you just become wiser. You'll still feel when those events and experiences reoccur but you'll feel differently.

Time can wear the body down but it can't wear you down. That doesn't seem to make sense on the surface but beyond the surface it starts to make more sense. If you accept that the physical you is not the defining you. I can't say who the defining you is because that always changes

Time is a lot of things but certainly not an illusion. That decrepit old man doesn't have to be your master or a specter two steps behind you. It can be a source of motivation or that fire at the bottom of the rope that makes climbing up the rope much more urgent, or annoying.

There's Blood Everywhere.

If I had a blood bank, that would be the motto. I think this is a better alternative than "Blood Storage Surplus", or something equally uninspired. "There's blood everywhere" would be memorable, to say the least. I imagine the public would be outraged at the motto. And possibly think I'm not taking blood seriously. Or that blood is literally everywhere- on the walls, ceiling, etc. But what business do I have running a blood bank? None. I would, however, have a sign that read: "No vampires allowed." Discriminatory? Maybe. Pragmatic? You're damn right. Likely to end my brief stint in the blood bank management business? Probably.

How does one deal with the end? Yes, "the end". That perpetually dreaded dark cloud looming above our heads. The inescapable fate that awaits everything and everyone, regardless of how much wealth and power has been obtained. "The only two certainties in life are death and taxes" says Mark Twain, or so the internet would have you believe; given that Gandhi was feuding with NWA. "Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks." Regardless, there is some truth in that quote. Everything has to end.

Dealing with the end really depends on the individual. I never really have a plan or strategy that extends beyond "deal with it" and "okay, this is real." It's a bit of a cop out because I don't have a specific answer but it's effective in the sense that I eventually get things done. That's how I am because the end tends to defy expectations. You expect one thing to end nicely and neatly but it's usually a bloodbath. Or the opposite could happen- a bloodbath is anticipated but you get red roses and blue skies such. As such, I'll match the end in that way- no discernible strategy or pattern. The method to this madness is to counteract the fact that the end is not always a tidy conclusion but an unpredictable mess, and the only way to deal with it is to present its polar opposite- staunch order, or match it with equal force- being as unpredictable as possible (or blank) in order to stand a chance of some sort. Which is really the only way to deal with things- match or overwhelm. Underwhelming never works to positive results.

You can pray for everything to be wrapped up nicely in a tidy box before dinner but chances are it ain't gonna happen. Nothing ever comes without a price. The degree of bloodshed will always vary on the circumstances. With me, I've always been indifferent, save for a few cases in which I was right in the middle of the bloodbath. There was blood everywhere, and tears. I tried my best to match the force of the end and I like to think I did relatively well but the reality is that my final reaction could best be summed up as "there's blood everywhere" with a cracking voice.

So, what can one gather from this rambling nonsense?

To match or overwhelm the end. How? You'll figure that out when you get to it. Will there be blood? Probably.

Hmm. I could just hang garlic nearby.

They Say it Stings

They say "it" stings. It being defeat, loss, sorrow, misery, regret, longing, etc. All those seemingly negative emotions.

I try not to believe this school of thought. I do well in denying this until they catch up to me in some strange but profound shape or form. You only believe yourself to be invincible, untouchable, made of the strongest metals known in the universe, and all that until something happens. You think you're some sort of god but in reality, all it takes is a seemingly perfectly aimed and timed blow to shatter everything about you. (Or a freak accident, if you're not into anything that even resembles "fate" and such, and lean more towards coincidence). Then, you're a blubbering fucking mess of melted jello or some other shapeless mess. How does one deal with that? By admitting that everything hurts, in varying degrees mind you.

I say everything hurts, even the good and happy. Have you ever heard phrases like "I love you so much it hurts"? "I laughed so much my ribs hurt"? "My cheeks hurt from smiling so much?" Pain is inherent in everything we do and feel. There's just no escaping it. For the most part, it seems, the universe in which we live in is a binary universe. Meaning everything seems to come in pairs- light and darkness, "good" and "bad", male and female, young and old. Of course, there's no denying the gray areas in between in which debate and creativity thrive through some form of chaos and disorder. Just because there seems to be an abundance of binary influence does not rule out the possibility that the universe is in fact split in half, given our gray areas and faulty justice systems around the world. Even our idea of justice, in the Western world anyway, is shaky and gray. Killing someone in self-defense isn't as scorned as flat out murder though they both have the same result. So just like something will feel good, it will also sting.

There's no way of getting around it.

Everything hurts.

But accept that hope probably outweighs sorrow.