Sometimes it rains everywhere, outside the house, inside the house (water dripping from the ceiling), inside the head...It's as if thoughts hit your mind like heavy drops that ricochet and hit your mind again. Then it all goes quiet, still as if nothing existed before and nothing will exist after. For a moment you feel out of place and yet, in the exact place you should be. After the rain, the sky clears, all the gray fleets to another dimension, and a pure blue welcomes shapeless, white clouds.
A pleasant emptiness fills my shell, and I see that crises come and go, and that the multitude of universes that we belong to conspire to make existence complex and marvelous and too many times so unappreciated by us. The sad part is that all our existence always sums up to what we remember from it, and the moment we remember it all. It's just that.
If we leave something behind, if people remember us, if we have visions about the future...should all these matter that much? Isn't it more important for us to remember our mistakes and what we stand for in order to continuously become a better version of ourselves? Sometimes it is, but sometimes it isn't. Or it's both. There are perpetual moments when our lives influence the lives of others. If what we stand for includes caring, at least a bit, about what's around us, then our existence should be what we remember and what others remember at the moment of remembrance, which is the most important time reference point that will ever exist, something we call the present.
My yesterday's present was slightly altered by a sequence of fast moving frames...