One thousand years pass and no time goes by at all. The white hot sun is infinitely standing guard in the sky while also rising and setting one million times. I am both limitlessly energized and fatigued in my bones as I sprawl out on the sharp, dry grass. One hundred faces pass, and no one is there. As I stare into the sky, I know that in this moment I am both someone and no one to them all. I know that in mere moments I will be moving while laying still, speaking rapidly with words pouring out of my ears and eyes like heavy rain. But for now, I am lying in the dead grass and trying to hold onto the ever spinning earth as it forces my immobile body through the cosmos away from today.

When you're young, a decade is a lifetime. Every day is an eternity but also rushes by like flowing water. At the end of it all, you're left with nothing except everything. Will you remember me when we leave this place? When I see you again, will it be your face that has aged or my eyes?