The moments of my life reverberate like echoes in a deep canyon. I can still hear them bouncing off the insides of my teeth long after my mouth has shut. A single instance is never just that. It lives on in memory, being pulled apart by dream excavators and examined by judgement specialists. How does everyone move on so quickly? I'm still here, soaking in the simple stillness of joy because I know when I move, the clock will too. I'm still here, reeling in anguish because tomorrow might not be better but everyone is ready to leave today behind. I'm just trying to exist in this one instance. Right now.