Medicare, Day 1. This is impossible. There was clearly a glitch in time. If my entire life equates to one day at the carnival, itís about 7pm to me.
I think they close at midnight. Or 10. Or 7:01. They never actually told me. So Iíll just hang around until they kick me out.
Iíve always preferred carnivals at night. The lights are most vibrant, contrasted by the darkness. The temps are most cool, contrasted by the heat. The people are most animated, contrasted by the shadows.
So being late in the day is actually preferred.
My early-day excitement has tempered. Iíve hit all the attractions. Eaten all the food. Explored the grounds. All from behind my eyes.
Now Iím on bonus time. I wander. Linger. Become the observer. Experience the carnival through the eyes of others.
I light up random kids by slipping them unused ride tickets. I applaud the carnieís practiced banter that reels in another prospect. I compliment the curler of the perfect cone of cotton candy.
I catch the sparkle of infatuation in the eye of a teen gal focused on her oblivious date. The poor guy has no idea he just missed a magic moment. And heís missing them by the dozens.
Eventually heíll figure it out. But the gal(s) will have moved on, selecting someone else who cherishes sparkles & magic moments.
Lifeís richest experiences pour their abundance on us before age 20. Everything is new. Too much to process.
Later, we have time to process, but so little is new.
But so much more is perceived.
Now I look on the past with sparkles of infatuation. Like the unaware date, the past doesnít respond. But my deeper perception reveals dimensions Iíd never seen. So the past becomes new.
It turns out that memory is not static because our perception never stops growing.
Itís been quite the day at the carnival. It both lasted forever & disappeared in a blink.
As I step away & look back on it all, perspective jumps in again.
Iíve lived my entire life to get to this moment.
What will I do with all that experience?
Iíve only just arrived.
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