The sands of time are making my floors dirty

I was watching time, well a clock on my wall, It made me think of a saying i heard once, "The sands of time flow without end" I am not sure if is something I heard or something my mind was making up. 

The thought of the "sand of time" made me think of sweeping. And I thought about having to sweep it into the dustpan of memory and then consign it to the trash of eternity. It was an interesting thought. I imagined that I was the one sweeping the dark black sand. the sand is solid bits of frozen time that will never change, while i swept what was and sorted it into the past where it will be as it is forever, thought of what I am to time itself.

My mind drifted from that thought to the idea that time is both fixed and in flux. Our pasts is fixed, what was was, and there is nothing we can do about it, where as the future is ever changing, we have choices and chances that life brings. Nothing in the future is fixed, and everything in the past is. The past is the balance to life as we know it. Life changes and twists because we tend only to want to feel the part of us that is in flux. But we are nether truly in the future or the past, but in the infinitely small border in between that we label the present. We live at the tip of the spear head that is ripping between the past and the future.

We live on the cusp of always being frozen, being fixed in the past and being ever changing in the future, we exist in both but never fulling living in ether time. So we are never in flux nor are we truly a fixed point in time, we are and we are not. For we exist in the incredibly small reality between the worlds of what was and what will be.

The seconds tick by and I think in quick bursts. I think on what that means to me in life, to know that in all things there is some sort of balance, life and death, light and dark, night and day. Even time is balanced, and we live at the tip of the scales and we don't realized that one moment in the past or future will make us fall into the gaps if the known and the unreachable unknown.  We are teetering on the cusp of time, Some times I think i can feel it, the past and the future just outside of my grasp.

For now and then I am, was and will be Andrew Haught,

This is a small taste of how my mind works.