I've been running all my life. The older I grow the more often I become winded. And as if a rubber-band were attached to my life, it comes back and hits me in the ass. About the time I land flat on my back I realize I have no idea where I am. I've been going without actually participating. My mind always in the future. My memories are in what will happen, not what has. Where am I and how did I get here? And occasionally , who is the clown grunting like a slain ox on top of me?
Life will be worth living.