Perish

As I reflect on my life I think of all the childhood memories that seem more prevalent and substantial than the ones I am living out as I get older.

Why is it that memories of our youth are more cherished than the elder ones?

When I was young I wanted nothing more than to grow up and live.

Age was something I compared to freedom.

An earned obstacle.

Back then I dreamed of what life would be like.

Now, I reflect on what life was.

The immature car rides to nowhere.

A concerned parent, waiting up.

Useless jobs, with an even more useless pay check.

A road to nowhere.

Now I am in my middle years.

Soon, death will begin claiming its first round of memories washing these thoughts of friends and family away, until it is time for me to perish.

When that time comes I imagine being surrounded by nothing more than my thoughts on paper and an empty heart, that refuses to quit beating.