To live or to die, we must wait

Photo by Adventures ofmaldives on Unsplash

At the behest of Time, I wonder if it’s obligatory, to sit and suffer in eternal purgatory.

For that is my constant, beating story. To wait in uncertainty with a fate so precarious, it’s transitory.

Wait in line, wait in traffic, wait for an answer that will never come. I’m frustrated, confused, resistant to what I know I’ll eventually succumb.

The gap between what I want and what is possible is waiting.

But I hate to wait.

I prefer the alternative. To suddenly be hit by unassuming car or self combust like a bloated ripe star.

Because that would be better. To end a fate of endless infinite wait, why wait?

To wait is to live. I don’t want to wait. I want definitive.