The sum of part’s on the coming of age. We are but the sum of everything we have lived.
As children we wonder, we wish, all the what if’s. As always, doctrines, that we are but numbers always coming up on the lineage of the right’s of passage, as if a gift.
Apart from departure and the arrival of the day on parting ways.
We remain to remember we are as young as we wish as we grow older to be just this.
I have not accomplished anything great. Accomplishments are for other people to redeem. I have Simply lived through a life of insanity as such diagnosed in my younger age. And upon these gathering of thoughts in mind, I have never truly escaped this so called life.
A bountiful of moments we weave to make believe that we dreamed of making it one day. One day at a time. It does indeed seem like each and every day takes another lifetime to make. To make us believe that we have lived a life worthwhile for the idea that we did in fact reach a point where we could be satisfied that we did indeed make our life in our day and age mean whatever was meant for us to achieve. Til our day. That old mystified Great Escape.
I made it the day I was born and then raised to run. Run far away. To a time you and I became more than just you and I became more than I could see that who in which I was I. Indeed in life I had changed. I became with my own age someone even I at times would not be able to recognize. I became more than just the same but a sum of parts that made it seem that I was made up by everyone and everything else that once did or does not exist today. Thing’s that exist upon this earth as though the universe remains unexplained. Life and Death. Billion light years ago to a billion light years away.
What is there to explain? Such is life adorned by the existence of an other and an other and another force. Mind your space. Life is but temporal and temporarily limited by all the things that make life limitless.
What once was once upon a time.
A billion years from now be it in ten.

Will I be Alive or Dead.
I know I don’t exist there more than I know today. Henceforth we can not imagine how much life we’ve got to live. Each day in mind Each day in my life Each day is indeed but a life lived in time. Each day is different.
Perhaps that is the difference between a life lived between you and I. I am I. Only known I before I was born to only knowing how much I lived my life on my own the life as I have chosen on my own. The life as I have lived.