It is surprising

how greatly a few simple words can affect us.  Perhaps it is merely a sign of age, or perhaps, lack of contact with those very few that make you better than you believed you were, but things get old.  I do not mean with the passing of time, but rather the passing of cycles.  It is words like routine, repetition, and grind, that seem unthreatening at first, but should be feared the most--"This is the way the world ends / This is the way the world ends / This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper."  Time.  Or more explicitly, the passage of time.  There are these moments that we remember in our childhood, certain scenes seemingly randomly chosen from a multitude of others, that play in our minds at random intervals, that we remember with increasing clarity.  Yes, the loss of memory is very likely due to age, but this illustrates an important point, which is that the passage of time is fluid, compressing and expanding depending on the number of moments that define us within any given timeframe.  Perhaps all of this leads to the incredibly loaded concept of apathy.  But this is not about apathy.  This is about how several words can reignite the soul.  Several words, wonderfully timed and almost lost in this old old world, that can give one of the rarest things in life: purpose.