søndag 5. juni 2016


"Where did all the days go" by Rebecca Green

This song by Kansas called "Dust in the Wind" (1977) inspired me to write this post:

"I close my eyes only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity

Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind

Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind

Now, don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy

Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind"

There's this subject that I never seem to get out of my mind, and that is the passing of time.
The fact that moments, seconds, minutes pass by so quickly, it's like it's gone already before I get 
the chance to grasp it. And sometimes I find myself unable to recall what I've done the last few 
days or weeks, which makes me start to question if that might reflect my inability to process all
the events, conversations, thoughts, writings that I encounter.  I believe part of it can be the
state of not being present in the moment which I think is better described as a "sleepwalker". 
- Unaware that your consciousness is somewhere else, it's like your mind is set to autopilot. 
Perhaps your mind has taken trivial, everyday events for granted and lost the curiousity for life
and just got lost somewhere in between.

Technology, different forms of light entertainment such as social media, internet, television is a 
time killer too I believe. Perhaps that's the answer to when we all say: "Where did all that time go?"
When we spend 1/3 of our lives sleeping, we shouldn't "sleep away" another half of our lives?
Distractions are everywhere, I tend to pull myself together and distance myself, and "disconnect"
from the internet world and impulses. In few words; focus, space, disposing time in a conscious matter.

It's a combination of how we process and treasure our memories, and also a way of thinking,
a mentality that always thinks forward, ahead of time, which in fact just serves as an 
illusion that distracts us from what is in front of us this very moment. Your reality is
now. Not next friday, or when summer finally arrives. If we have this kind of mentality
of always looking forward to the future, "future" has lost its value, for when the "future"
arrives, we won't even realize, cause we are already looking forward to next weekend, 
next event etc.

- Six Feet Under, TV series (2005) 

Isabel H.R

Life is fluid, its constant movement keeps it ever changing, reflections and echoes of
past personas shattered all over, still invisible to some. There's no force that holds it
in one place. It's like a stormy sea that never stays the same. Memories, even memories find
a way to slip through your fingers, unless you keep them dear in a precious box. 

Events rise from above and dive back into the sea, though it's weightless, it sinks fading 
into a memory. The only things that stays throughout the storm is the bonds, the feelings 
that's been created with the people and the places you've met along the way, that is 
something which is beyond the measure of time.

But the day will come, when I must depart, leave all my belongings behind and sink into the 
bottomless sea - will there be any traces of me, flowing back up to the surface of the sea? 
Traces of thoughts, values, or loved ones that keep their idea of me in their memory. A picture
is the only thing that represent me physically. But is this really me, appearances are deceiving,
and pictures tells only one side of the story. What about all my writings whom I left alone on
my desk? Or perhaps a thought, a saying, led its singing way into someone else and lives on like a 
whispering wind? A form of consciousness in the present world, for the next generations to come.
I wonder if my mind will ever be echoed liked that, what a beautiful thing it would be.

- Just as little as you get to share of yourself with the the world, when you pass away, it's like
there's these fragments of you left shattered all over. No matter how transparent you felt your
 life and your influence on the world has been, there is this need for those in your family that comes 
after you to acknowledge your existence, because of this strange sense of belonging, cause you're all 
related to one another. What pieces will be left for your descendants to puzzle? 

I always believed my thoughts were best translated into paper, as a piece of writing. It's a 
neutral zone where I can write - think - reflect - write.  It enables me to observe objectively 
what I'm thinking. The whole thing is like a thought process. So in a way it's a way of 
confronting yourself, cause once thoughts are translated into words, you can't escape them, 
cause they are literally brought to life. There's so much going on in our minds, so much that
we might even not be aware of. But if you step back a little, and take time to dive into that
consciousness you might find a little seed, and bring it into life by starting writing about it. 
It's basically like taking a thought and develop it to a higher level. It broadens my whole 
awareness about who I want to be, what I believe in and how to communicate what's going 
on in my mind to the people that surrounds me and how I see myself in the midst of it all,
my place in the world.

I think how you should process, store and value your life events, days, months, hours is entirely
 up to each individual. The most important thing is that you're aware. Some people can go through 
life not even questioning themselves, and that's perhaps when you end up saying; "Where did my 
life go?" You have to be more aware about what you are doing and why you are doing it. A way
of processing and shaping your own reality.

Illustration, artist unknown