Too Long

Sometimes I think I’ve lived too long.

When I look out at the busy streets of people going from here to there without end, I think back to another time when people strolled down paths, whistling as they slowly made their way. Or I think to a time in the future when people won’t have the need to do anything; they will only do what they deem fun and will have no need to hurry.

When I see all of the people on phones or staring at a computer screen, I think back to times before technology, before screens or pages or reading. A better time lay behind when people enjoyed each other and what they could make do with. A better time lies ahead when techonology will lead to an age of intimate interaction with only the use of devices.

When I look out at the problems I see today, I can’t help think of back then and one day. We are stuck in a time in the middle, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Nothing anyone can do.

Yet I see more people smiling today than I have in any other time. More happiness, more comfort, less sickness, and less pain than anywhere else. Yet I still don’t think this is the best time that exists.

I’ve been so many places and to so many times, and when I think to them, I think I know what’s best. But maybe I’ve just seen too many things to enjoy what other people do. Maybe I’ve just been alive too long to appreciate the time in front of me.