IT.

Thud, honk, beep, gong. IT’s the beat of the drum. It’s the tick of the clock. It’s the cockin’ back of the glock.

Boom, bang, fire, shoot. It’s the whistling’ of the mortar. It’s the kick of the rifle. It’s the PING that signifies contact with the target made of three brass bars, and the scream that comes after.

Tick, Tock, Flash, Ring. It’s the typing on the keyboard. It’s the thunderous boom of the lightning. It’s the tears of terror falling into a pool of alluring mist on an Alfred Hitchcock movie that’s so frightening. The human race is obsessed with it. It is something that we can not control. It is something that we can not smell, feel, or taste. We can only see it or hear it. The changeover from red to green on a stoplight, the proclamation of acceptance of a product on a barcode scanner, this it the phenomenon that we know of as the beating heart of life.

Mother Nature, Jack Frost, and Fther Time. These are all examples of our obsession with it. Why are we so obsessed with something that we have no control over? The truth tis that our obsession exists as simply nothing more than a fear.

Knowing this, it is obvious as to the reason of why. If one was to pick up a health text book in a modern day health class, then they could easily find where the book says that one of the most common fears in life is the fear of the unknown.

This fear, however, differs from the fear of the unkown. We know what we are obsessed with is. It is it. We know it exists. The only thing that we do not know is when it will happen.

Some may notice that “when it will” is the future tense of happens, and that “when is does” is the present tense of happen. This brings a conclusion onto the fact that we are not really afraid of this beating heart when it is beating, but we are afraid of the fact that we can not determine when it will next have beaten.

It is what? The beating hear of life. It is when? Just time for someone to wake up to the sound of their alarm clock. It is whop? The man, constantly lurking in the shadows, that steps in the puddle. It is where? On the banks of the coast of Normandy, where the machine guns constantly howl for freedom.

It is why? For variety, for sameness, for music. If we as a species lived in a world where the beat was the same, where we were in control, would that really be as good of a world as we live now? Would you still hold that opinion if you were to travel to Darfur?

We know so much about it, yet it is still a mystery. We can always wonder about it, but in the end, all we really will conclude to, is the fact that it does happen.

Thud Honk. Beep. Gong. Hault. Boom. Bang. Fire. Shoot. Screech. Tick, Tock. Flash… Ring.

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