I wish god were alive to hear this

"and there to be there still there"
-samuel beckett

Eternity is itinerant and a skinny imminent emo-kid disaster with long gothic eye lashes and an open book of suicidal and violent poems he'll want to read to you long after you've given up listening.

It clings, not desperate but plodding and plotting, abjection and defiance dancing through the thin inky strands of his unkempt hair. Patiently waiting, like a bored monster, annoying as a child, now grown vague and listless. "I'm not leaving until you listen to what I have to say," he says, "the sooner the better, but I suppose I can wait if you need a few minutes."

As opposition, in a battle that was never announced, nor has ever truly been fair, but like the Rocky movie (fights) is still filled with poignant and ball-gripping pinache;

The Present, is foppish and apologetic and sits in the corner biting his fingernails without making a sound. Obese and pleasant-smelling if you ever get up close, a sorrowful countenance webs his brow, baby-fat beautiful, with a family size bag of gummy candy that he occasionally reaches into for unobtrusive nourishment.

No one ever talks to it much, but when they do he has a habit of apologizing for all the wonderful things he has to say, and straying into tangential digresions that make you focus on other things: out the window, the weather, what you're going to do tomorrow, eternities. "The miracle of flowers, stop me if I'm boring you, the flower itself blossoms towards the warmth of the sun, have you noticed how cold it is in here?" Don't let him sway you. Keep focused on him. Stare him in the eye.

"the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill
A kiss, and all was said. "
-Victor Hugo