Resumo de Time....

As I sit at the bottom of this great tower, thinking, probing into my imagination, perceiving and interpreting. Playing around with my flute. Writing a song. A song about this and that. My life seems to have significance when I collaborate, write. "Sometimes I sing to the moon, to the stars. I sing about the scars, the scars that have never been acknowledged in the real life, it's special to me.
Sitting at the bottom of this great tower, I feel alone. Not knowing what the next day will, or not bring. HEAT, CHILL, RAIN or SNOW, or just thunder? For me life is waiting. Waiting for the inevitable, as soon as we protrude the safety of the womb we start waiting, waiting to die.
Death:
1. The act of dying, end of life, the total and permanent cessation of the vital functions.
2. The annihilating power personified, usually represented as a skeleton.
3. The state of being dead, to lie still in death.
4. Extinction, destruction: it will mean the death of our hopes.
5. A time that which a person dies.
Sure there are those special moments, feelings, such as love, passion and excitement.
Most of the time though, you and I just sit at the bottom of this great tower, waiting...
Abruptly we are awoken from this trance like state of sleep; the tower opens its tremendous and incorruptible doors, no more waiting. We look inside and see what we want to see, it seems magical, mystical, the way a newborn perceives the world, the first day of their lives. So fragile but so constant and familiar, as this tower has been part of you for so long, probing, waiting, for the day to open and present you with all the special elements of life at once, enlightenment.
To see more we climb, the longer we climb the more intense and explosive these experiences and feelings become. As we reach the pinnacle of this great tower, we are not satisfied with what we have, we become ravenous and dissatisfied with our fortune. As we stand on this slippery and fragile crest ignoring all risks we jump... Slip and fall down the outside of the tower. As we fall we take drastic steps to regain our once fortune and nothing seems to work, we just start falling faster, we seem to loose everything that is important to us. We hit "rock bottom" with a tremendous force, the doors are once again closed.
The weak resort to alternative routes, ignoring their health, lives and decide to give up, throw their last few pennies into an addiction that is as fatal as a bullet to the head.
I am once again stuck at the bottom of a great tower, playing my flute, writing songs about this and that. My life seems to have some sort of meaning when I write.

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