Fragile

Things are fragile, no way around it.
When I deem something precious, I want to hold it and enjoy its luster.
Just for as long as I can.
With every sunrise more life is lost.
We get that much closer to the end of our ride.
I don't want to waste my finite minutes on trivia and scrutiny.
I want to breathe deeply the air as it flows around me.
To drink the wild concoction of a series of random events.
That is what it means to be a free man in this free idea we call freedom.
Unbound by chains both real and imagined by those who would imprison.
I am alive, and to live is to claw and scratch and spiral from enlightenment to hopelessness.
And vice-versa.
The sun will rise again soon and burn away whose time has come.
The rest will try to run forever.