Jen

Jen: I have lived for six moments, each longer than the last.

My every movement is naught when considered within the whole. I have barely moved when I am a teen, and will be hardly older when I am round with child. I can look back at any moment I recall, but any moment I forget is lost to me until an external awakens the buried memories, drawing out recollections of times gone, but still present. Everything that I am I have become, and everything that I was I am. It is impossible to strike those experiences that have occurred before, for they will always be etched within my body and within my mind. Even if I were to tear the skin covering my meat, and my meat from my bones, I would still have experienced, and have experienced through those experiences. I can never go back to who I was, but can only become who I will be. I am unique because no one else was where I was when I was, and no one will be where I will be when I am there. Can I speak of the moment without speaking of the past, no. I am constantly evolving, becoming, changing, growing, dying. I am nothing yet I am everything, for while I will be, and was, nothing but a tiny fleck of dust, I am everything in my world, and nothing is greater than I. You try to enlarge yourself, but when I am gone you will be and you will not be, one of which is important to you, and one which is important to me. We can know nothing really of another, for another is not us. If I cannot know my mother how can I know another. My mother is alive, just like my father, yet they are both dead, for they are dying and have no ability to break free. I shed a tear, yet I cannot tell if it is because I am happy or because I am sad, or is it because I am what I am and can never be what I am not. True, I can change and become something like what I want to be, but does that really mean that I am what I wanted to be, for did I not want to be what I wanted to be when I was not what I wanted to be. I lamented for the present, or truly for the past, not for the future that one day might become. If I were truly crying for the future, I would be guilty of not moving towards it, of instead spending my time thinking about it. Yet, do I not act when I stand still, and therefore move when I do not. It takes work to move, yet work also to not. While it may be easier to do one than the other in some cases, and vice versa in others, it is all the same, just like good and bad, only slightly skewed, or bent, for if they were the same would not they be the same?

Article history

Created: October 21st 2004
Modified: December 11th 2004