A century,
100 years,
Almost 1,200 months,
A hair over 5,214 weeks,
36,500 days,
Et cetera and Ad Nauseam.

A lot of time,
To build,
To demolish
To create,
To destroy.

But even with it all it is just a grain of sand that's in the hour glass.

But let's narrow our discussion here,
Let's just say part of one year,
More specifically 118 days.

Prose thoughts and insomniatic ramblings given a cohesive direction.
And a long time passion project procrastinated until now.

A lot can happen in 100 years,
Hell,
A lot can happen in 100 seconds,
Your bloods makes 5 complete laps in your body,
The Earth moved 3,000 kilometers,
And the average human being has 70 thoughts.

Imagine if you just latched onto one of those fleeting thoughts,
Seeing which way it took you,
New ideas perhaps?
Perhaps you remember something you long thought lost.

Again,
Et cetera and Ad Nauseam.

The air is thick,
Grey eyes bloodshot from the cigarette smoke and lack of sleep.

Townshend in a rare role,
As he holds court over the airwaves.
Warning of the masks worn by those who derailed others while rising to the top,
Their vices always taken to an extreme.

The night air is finally cooling down,
It's gentle waves giving me occasionally goosebumps.