Time itself, penultimately, is the second-to-last frontier. The last is death. Of course, death is never something you originally look forward to, though you can learn to hug the prickly bastard. Between pizzas, the brisk winter air of my home town, and countless nights refreshing my Twitter, I have learned that we as humans are only here for a speck of time. A building block of the unfinished castle of time. We as humans created time, though we are plagued by our own beast of burden. We depend on it. We’d be lost without something we created to measure something we cannot control.

I spend most of my time contemplating my existence.

My existence of course, has become chained to my dependence on others, the visions of the future, the want to be held in the arms of a burly man. Actually, scratch the last one. And once being so close to death reminds one how important these things are, though they may seem hindering on the surface. An existence without love and longing is no existence at all, especially without love. Sometimes I wish I could live without longing. Love begins so abundant in everyone. We are born with an unlimited amount of love to give. As we grow through childhood into adolescence, we lose this once unlimited amount. We restrict, we give too much, we give all we have until there is no more left for ourselves. Though love has become the foundation of our existence, we as humans have not used it in the correct manner.

I used to believe mutual love with another person would unravel the deeper truth that I was always meant to find. The answer to all my questions, the spell to lure the spectre of hope that had laying by me every night into me, the greater truth. You must certainly know what I mean, right? We all want to know everything about everything, about everyone. Even if it came at a cost. Of course, I was wrong, which led me down another path that kept me disconnected from the “greater truth” that I longed for. I have devoted my entire live towards the search, though I don’t think I will ever find it. Maybe the “greater truth” is the fact that there is no greater truth. Maybe we’re living it, and don’t even know it.

I was told once that people think that I live in a disconnected reality. Things are sometimes not real enough, or they are all too real. I don’t daydream, I don’t pretend things aren’t there. I just seem to enjoy the things I enjoy too much. I express my feelings for those things with openness, I am not afraid. Oversharing has become my norm, since I don’t find myself not sharing, as I feel much better when I talk about things. But of course, the case of whether or not talking or not talking is better is not up for grabs here. Love is the main course at this dinner party, and you can have all you want. So sit down, lovelies, you will get your filling one day.

Of course the ideal world is filled with nothing but love. The pavement is without a crack, the weather is just right, everything is set in place, your latte is at just the right temperature and nothing hurts. This, obviously, will never all happen at the same time… unless some rare planetary event occurs. As rare as me meeting the Queen on a rainy day in the middle of Japan. Godspeed.

The message is not whether or not perfection will ever be achieved, it’s that we must learn to accept our flaws as a society, as humanity. Some people say “well, shit happens,” and indeed it does. There is the constant discourse of people who believe perfection can be achieved, that we are just a couple inches away from it. God, can’t people see we’ll never achieve it? Humanity thrives on it’s mistakes, it will forever polish itself from said mistakes in order to compensate… “better than I was yesterday,” and the oh-so-classic “I lived and I learned.” The learned part always comes at the end, after you reach the comforting arms of solitude at the end of the merciless foot journey across the nation, the arms finally sending the message: There must be more than this. And certainly there is more than this. Can we let our mistakes become what we all long for: love? Can our mistakes make love everlasting? There is no answer to this, and once we learn to accept this, we can learn to live more and more each day, until there is no more life to live.