Dear Diary,
Here's a beautiful poem I found. I wrote it down once, but it's so good I want to better remember it, so I'm going to write it down again. ...
We're waiting for tomorrow,
But tomorrow never comes,
Our last breath is right upon our heels,
Yet we still refuse to run,
86 400 seconds,
And we're in another day,
All slipping through our fingers,
As we look the other way,
Days,weeks,months and years,
Are made up of right now,
A string of fleeting moments,
That we never can pin down,
We gaze into the future,
As though it's where we're meant to be,
Always planning for that day,
When we say we're happy,
We spend so long looking forward,
That we may as well be blind,
Since we don't see until the very end,
All things we've left behind.
Now I know it's just a theory,
But I think I've worked out how,
The only way to happiness,
Is to love what we have now.
~anon
Isn't it beautiful? I think it is. ... It's funny, I was sitting on the terrace in the evening, looking into the beautiful sunset and having the same feeling,...But I just couldn't articulate myself to put that feeling into words......
And by chance when I came down and opened my machine to get to work, I stumbled upon this gem of a poem,...And I thought, this is exactly what I was feeling. . . .
Peace!
Goodnight diary