The Greatest Illusion

 My entire life is a deposit for "afterwards". Either "afterwards" is tomorrow, in a month, in five years or even in the next moment. 

 Ever since I remember myself my thoughts are constantly running forward towards that magical location that always arrives but is never here. Is constructed in such detail, described either dark and dead-end or happy and hopeful (based on my emotional condition) that many times I react to transform my mood as if am there already. To that arbitrary "afterwards" that arbitrarily constructed another self of mine. Whom it might be? Which manner of speech? Under which circumstances? For what?

As I look around, I realise how impermanent and vulnerable things are. Everything sings to me: "never again". Never will I ever breathe again as this exact moment. Never will my heartbeat again, in the same way, is beating now. The next will be a totally different heartbeat, that as much as I try to visualise (as much as I try to imagine what is the meaning of life) it will be nothing at all like my pre- visualised illustrations. And that exact moment "now" becomes the upcoming "now". Perpetually.

We have abandoned our bodies here, and with the rest of us, we are wandering around in a world that doesn't exist. The most enormous prison and the greatest illusion. Until our bodies turn to dust. And let time to just pass on its own. With no additional illusions.