azukare

There are things called beginnings and there are things called “the last time “. You put more emphasis on the latter. We say “The last time I was there,” then we insert all the adjectives. All is past, and the present most often is a product of the past.



I am the past. And if not for all the most often mediocre thing called emotions, perhaps, everything is never random. Presence is defined not by time but through the rawness of experience. Don’t mind the clock that ticks. Don’t mind the seconds. Don’t mind the never-ending years. As long as all those memories LASTS then perhaps the rawness of life could be fresher than the empty verses of this prose.

There is no such thing called infinite or finite. We make things as they are. And if the word GONE existed even before we create a thing or two, the problem lies on what happens after next. And the fearful word called “next” just makes everything benign yet again.. everything is past.. and IT never lasted.

Save the best for last. It’s funny sometimes how we say life is a journey. Yet what truly matters mostly to many is the END of the journey. We forget that the end is an end itself. There are no more roads to take. No more “nexts”.. it’s the last stop. Life has only bitter-sweet GOALS to reach. It’s the journey itself that makes every reason honeyed and thick… sensible and laughable… understandable and meaningful… memorable and lasting.



It’s the last day. Eight more minutes to be exact. I’ll end the verses and the so-so. I’ll end the sojourn and all the things that happened in this moment will be left exactly when this moment ends. Forgetting is harsher than letting go. You cannot just forget and let go, it’s a lie to forget. What’s more truer is letting the memory stay and let go of the past. It will still last. New things will happen. New moments will exist. New presents and now, new tomorrows and futures… but everything will pass… and it depends if anything will last…

It’s the last hour….

It’s the last-minute…

It’s the last second…