Eternally ‘alive’ in a particle of time, be they the ripe and the rotten; the virtuous and the nefarious; the tramp sleeping rough under railway arches; the forgotten harlot without a worthy client; those who sadly have no limbs, the collective despair of vagrants, lost souls destined to roam yet still immortal. For one and all their tenure in time, absolute. The lucky ones? If nothing else, they live and breathe in frozen time.
As to all others, rewind, fast forward, you will find us here, locked in our one and only particle. It renders longevity irrelevant. Our particle is all there is to pray or muse upon for it has no final cause. Only time is in perpetual motion, each particle is merely its cherished fragment. Indeed the particle is the only habitation there was, is and will always be.
Within its capsules, both flesh and blood, desires, lovemaking, memories and accomplishments, all matter that never is diluted, as the particle abides. For some the simplicity of a broken heart, for others perhaps small hairy animals that bark, maybe even the joy of tobacco. For dreamers? Whatever dreamers do. All is kept from harm’s way.
Duration is irrelevant at the indelibly ‘Particle of Time Hotel’. The customers, be they females or males, little or big, young or old, taking injections, cursed with eyes that cannot see or eyes that do see, always live within its surround. A concept easy to grasp, easier still to forget. Yet worry not, for when you get there the particle remains bullet proof.
If you don’t believe me, as of now, go catch a steam train or perhaps simply click your fingertips, either will get you to ‘Time Gone By’, or if your fancy, go ahead into ‘Times To Come’. Somewhere out there you’ll find me. Maybe we can share something French and red to drink? By the way, if it helps you find me, the locals everywhere know my name, ‘Mademoiselle Everlasting’.
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