A Night Not Spent

Listening to an airplane pass overhead.  It could be a propeller plane.  Doesn't matter, either way, anymore.  A vehicle passing on a nearby street drowns out everything with unintelligible bass-heavy audio.

Whether we want to admit it or not, there's a limited time for everything.  However they pass, or whatever we did with that time, they pass.  Ends come without a start, many times.  Reasons don't matter.  

Except what you've chosen to do, none of the rest will ever be more than a footnote, at best.  All the pages written about whatever else won't chronicle what's never done.  Remember what you didn't do?  Even if you can, it won't be for more than a few seconds.