Today was my father's 59th birthday. In another year he'll be 60. I can't get over how fast everything moves. Everytime I see him there's more white in his hair, or another line that wasn't there before. Time passing is one of the most eerie things. Seeing someone age slowly, and knowing at that precise moment the same is happening to you. No one is immune. I will eventually run out of time, and the idea that I'll wake up one day and realize that everything passed me by terrifies me. I think about him and if he's happy with the way things panned out. He's still got time, but time is fleeting. Always. Every second that passes you'll never get back. Spooky isn't it?
I spend a lot of time in the future, planning and anticipating the next thing. Sometimes I waste away in the past which tend to be bad days for me. But it can be hard to be here, right now. I guess that's the appeal of journaling. Something about producing a snapshot of my mind, a memory of this moment, makes me feel a little less afraid.
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