A Familiar Disorientation

Jimmy Abyad - March , 2025

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One hundred trillion years
A familiar disorientation to imagine the future
But what of the past
Also infinite but unchangeable

A familiar disorientation to regret
Mostly regret to what isn’t mine
As if I could somehow fix things

The present, an anchor
Every moment drags by
As if it were tearing through the ocean floor

We can’t begin to grasp
Such real limitations
A familiar disorientation
Acting like we can be outside the present

Can the physical be a gift?
A living, breathing stark contrast
To the vain pursuit of infinity?
I am free to know myself now
My responsibility is who I am.
I am limited