Succint

Life has its moments.  While we live them, they seem to be separate and distinct, one from the next. The longer we live, the more moments we accumulate.  Finally, when we begin reaching a certain point, the way we see those moments shifts.  They begin to lose their singularity and to blend together into a larger singularity.  I think that when we reach the end, we finally get to see the thing as a whole, and suddenly the entire life transforms into something unique, succinct and ultimately comprehensible.  Time is not plural.  It is singular.  And our lives are not plural either.  Like all those moments coalescing into a life, all those lives coalesce into a world, also succinct and comprehensible, but to the mind that comprehends the myriad lives as something singular.