Morphing too dust.

Most of the time life isn’t what we think it will be. Most of the time life isn’t even what we want it to be, and yet in the words of someone else I’m sure, it deafeningly seems to be a tapestry of many stories. I wonder sometimes what it might look like to God. I wish I could see it from that distance sometimes. It sure would be something to see. I would need different eyes to see it clearly though. Maybe I would just need a different kind of brain, Or maybe a different body all together. As this body gets older, and starts to remind me that death is real. I think more often about the days when it felt like living forever was a possibility. The one thing that seems to get a little sharper despite the failing and ageing body is the mind attached to it. Despite the young mind it likes to forget that the body is not young. I tend to do stupid stuff like jumping of the row of big rocks at the local park like I did when I was thirteen and unbreakable, at lest more so than I am now. Thirty’s is an interesting time of life, it’s still young and yet more aware of the reality of bridle bones. . . More aware of the dust my body is slowly morphing too as time passes. Pretty morbid! Not really though, not when I get to hope for a new body that won’t die. Oh ya! I hope I will able to run really fast, and jump really high and far! =)