[free flow of ideas for now – not in poetry mood]
A tiny slice of time forgot for the briefest of moments to tread on. It only lasted enough for the heart of a hopeless lover to trap it, exposing its true colors, its immortal nature. It had neither been lost nor sought but it was now trapped, frozen.
When we experience impossibilities/outliners, time skips a few slices. We cherish extremes because they define boundaries and make us say „aha!”. Of course, soon we forget and seek new ones, driven by the joy we experienced before we forgot. Also, we forget that we forget. Words, actions, consequences are easily left behind; rarely strong feelings. Love or hate them, we don’t want to let go. Subjectivity gives us a sense of uniqueness, of humanity. It gives us a backstory.
A single moment knows nothing outside of itself. Sunken within it, we become free for that one moment. It is our expectation of reliving that single moment of bliss that drives us up the wall.
We are but little moments trapped in time, unaware of our own nature.