The time has come.


The time is now.


The regularity is here.


In our hearts


and minds


and skin


and bones


and teeth


and hair


and fingers


and toes


and



Stop.



Breathe.



Take a minute.


A minute to wish upon the clock,


to wish away our fears.


Think, for this minute, about the dreams 


we hide in our souls,


the dreams burning to be realized,


on fire all the time, on fire 


in our minds.


Dreams of tomorrow,


of today,


of yesterday.



Because what is this life


but a dream?


A hazy mist that we float through


along the stream,


the stream of our consciousness.


Row, row with all our might.


Learn to fight 


the current. Fight the attempts of the weak 


to hold us back.



Because we deserve this.


We earned this.



Take each day to find the patterns,


and the patterns within


the patterns, and the rhythm within 


the patterns, within the patterns,


repeat.


Wash.


Rinse.


Repeat.



And record.


Record this journey we’re taking together. Record 


as we burn on


and on


and on,


as they burn on


in the stars, as they flow and sing.


Sing a nebulullaby, a song 


to sing us all to sleep 


so that we might dream again. Repeat 


this whole crazy minute again.


Over and over and over again.



Maybe perhaps we’ll get it right.


One of these days we might just 


get it right. But we’ll never know 


unless we try, so with painty hands we’ll do 


our part. Live life to the fullest, 


and leave fear in the dust.


Minute by minute we’ll create and record.


Again,


and again,


and again, 


by heart.

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