Every morning is a shadow of the night just passed. There is no open light flowing through my windows that is stronger than the same light that was yesterday. It is a forever cycle of a continuously fading essence. The dust is swirling in my bedroom by the force released from the sunlight streaming in between blinds. The slightly less powerful force that only swirls the dust so much, like the essence of the light, also slowly fading each day my eyes open from sleep. Today, I awoke and saw light as a paled out dream, and I wondered if I still slept, or have been for years. The line between dreaming and waking is only in the tangible. I know I’m awake because I feel more, and I remember more. Is it possible though that I could really be awake when I feel that I am asleep? Regardless of the answer, this is the question I asked myself as I stared at the swirling dust, illuminated by the sunlight, which was broken by the blinds.
And then I remembered yesterday. The funny thing is that yesterday is the past, and if you think about it, the past is just one lump of experience that has already happened. You can only visit the past through memory or a written account. Structures and images work as well, but visiting an old monolith or building is a not quite the same. When you stand in a building there is the present, it is still there. It may have seen a hundred or a thousand years ago, but it is now and there. Memory and ideas behind words are lost to what you hold on to. And yesterday, or the past, is something that will fade. Unfortunately I didn’t know what was memory or illusion, or anything, for that matter.
Yesterday, yesterday was a day, like many others, a little duller than the one before, as I am talking about a particular moment in the past, specifically, yesterday. Yesterday, I woke as usual, thinking about what the day would have in store for me, and curious if I had reached any form of knowledge about me. As usual, nothing new and exciting presented itself in my moments of contemplation, and the day progressed as normal. I was who I was, and there were some things that needed doing, bathroom stop, washing, dressing, and then… then… I don’t’ think I was sure, what is there to do on a Saturday. Sometimes there is the social function, dinner, plans, weddings, etc to do, but typically Saturdays are fairly free. Like a typical Saturday, this one was free. I had no illusions about what I might do, or what I thought about doing, and performed the normal routines, as I stated before, and did… nothing. I sat around for a while and dreamed, created momentary illusions of passion and thought that quickly faded as I tried to think more deeply about them. Distraction is a blessing and a curse when you are attempting to think. It can help you to protect yourself from unpleasant thoughts, and it can divert you from actually seeing what is presented in front of you. Distraction ruled a good four hours of my waking time, and interrupting my delusions, my phone ringed, and life as I knew it, changed, leaving me empty and wondering: Where am I going, who am I now, and what ever will happen to all that I have known.

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