The time of my life is now


I’ve moved on, and I can’t say that it was a very wrong move, or that it was too soon or too late. Too early to say, but too long already to just hang out either. Many, many things have changed. And how quickly they all have changed. Time is warping things up, depending on who looks from the outside into the inside. Some says its long enough, and then there are others who say that it’s not nearly long enough. If I were to base my present experiences on the things that they say, I will end up really conflicted. There’s no way that different points of view can be merged. Time is time, and it is linear. Only the perception of it can be non-linear. Let’s say that I’ve taken up a month already. Is that too long? Or too short? I’m not sure what yardstick can we use to warp up an unwarpable time, but measure for measure, I’ve moved on, and I’m still on the move. It started October of last year when the actual, physical journey began. (But aren’t we always on a journey, anyhow?) But the change to this present journey from the previous one the first of many tectonic shifts that was about to happen in my life. The question is not just “Do you know where you’re going to?” but “What are you giving up and leaving behind?” There must be some compelling reason that motivated me right from the start to move from far there to the now here. Whatever that might be, and even if I cannot recollect it lucidly, it must have had such a force to move me from one time zone to another by the separated measure of a several time zones. The time of my life is what’s in there now, and yet, it’s not yet really now. It has just really began.

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