I now had waked from my sleep, I looked outside through a corner of my curtain, and day had broken. I went to see Mr. Hampton next door.
Of time, you know nothing of, but time knows a lot about old age. Youth has its pride, age has its wisdom, or so they say; but then, not in all cases. Life is liken to the tides of the sea; they come in, and they go out, a simple observance, philosophy if you will: if that is what it is; thus, another wave comes in, should you have the time to scrutinize it, should you be given the time that is. And as we all know, standing on the shore, big or small, the waves disappear from our sight; blemished into the sea as if they never were, but you seen them, seen them for a moment, just a flicker in the ripple of time, but you've seen them nonetheless, you were there, and should you wait for that same tide to return, you will wait forever, it will not return. It's just the way it is, the way it's always been, the way it will continue to be, like it or not. You may even say after a while: "Was it ever," questioning your sanity. But you know deep down inside it was. Oh yes, you're getting the picture, we are just waves in the sea, sort of.
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