Do all humans imagine they’ll never die? This comes up often with friends and in my reading.
The ability of humans to truly hear one another despite the wide chasms in time and experience.
How is it possible that so many years have passed since we left high school or college to start our adult lives?
Human are preoccupied with time. There’s time that’s already gone by and time yet to come, and in between is the present, the moment.
At eighty-five there is no refuting my turn on the deathbed; it is inevitable; my time will come.