Countdown

The clock. It keeps on ticking. That incessant ticking that never ceases. The stifling tic, followed by the deafening silence before it is finally broken by the inevitable toc. The clock keeps on ticking away my life. Each second that passes brings me one second closer to my inevitable demise. Each second that passes is yet another second lost to the past, wasted by the lack of initiative that has plagued my life. Each second that passes does so in mock of my closing in on the end of my life, pressing me farther from it's beginning. Each second grows longer. Each second seems to stretch out teasingly in front of me, daring me to make a move. Daring me to break away from the slumber in which my spirit has rested for most of my life. Each second comes rushing at me before I am ready, and then seems to stop as it passes by me, taunting me to follow it into that suspended moment, living as I want without regard for others. Ultimately it speeds away behind me, becoming a distant, and all too soon, unrecallable moment, joining the billions which have proceeded it, leaving me a ready target for the next one which inevitably follows. Each second holds the potential for life or death, happiness or grief, love or hatred, construction or destruction. It soon realizes it's potential and passes swiftly into history. The next one comes along holding the same potential as it's predecessors, awaiting the same fate which befell all of them. Seconds accumulate all too quickly, turning into minutes, hours, days, and ultimately eternity. And while we will experience a minuscule number of them during our existence, it will be enough to drive us to the ultimate question that has plagued our ancestors, and will plague our descendants: WHY?