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Growing (up and old)


butterflyArt

 

Here I am, another one of those nights where I sit by myself, believing I am a stone in the river of time as it rushes past me unabated, unfettered … driving away things and people and memories that were right here just a moment ago.

When spacetime is so unyieldingly dynamic, why is it that we feel bound to stay unrealistically onto strands of borrowed moments that we take comfort in, and so zealously protect.

What happens when you feel you are a mentor, having lived a tough life and anxious to protect those you know from falling into the fallacies we once fell into. What happens when you try … and yet you speak at condescending ears or those that seemingly are dimensionally unaligned to make them unable of comprehension?

What do you feel, being a reluctant mentor, yet seeing your efforts unable to stop the ones you love from falling into the abyss.

Perhaps the world has changed enough to make it much more nuclear than ever, a world where the unlimited forms of entertainment, intoxication (and subsequent escape) and need have taken relationships to the beginning of a new era – a selfish unattached, unemotional age. Perhaps the vinyl records, the hippie words, the struggle for solitude and appreciation of beauty amid nature are all truly over.

Heck, we might be heading seamlessly towards an era of touch screen and mixed reality biological cyborgs who might never need mentors as long as the ubiquitous Google search engine and youtube succeed in evolving and driving human enterprise and ability to question, extinct.

Perhaps the world of the future does need mentors to remind it to think, but then again, perhaps they do not!

Post in reply to the prompt – WordPress mentor prompt

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