Perhaps the most confusing and intriguing concept to me is the concept of time.
Time has no concern for anyone. It’s one of the few things in existence that can’t be manipulated. Or thwarted. Or taken back. Or saved. Or paused. Or given. It’s simply there, and then it’s not.
I think the reason that I never used to take my time too seriously was because I figured, what will happen will happen. If I worry myself too much about what to do with whatever time I have left, I would absolutely lose my mind. Much like a character in a book I read who doesn’t wear watches or doesn’t own clocks. Just seeing time in its written form was enough to freak him out.
It’s not simply that time can’t be controlled. It’s that whatever we do and whenever we do it, time is ticking. IT’S ALWAYS GOING. It never stops and it never slows down or speeds up. It just goes and goes and goes and goes and goes and goes and goes and goes and goes and goes and goes.
Sitting here, thinking about this concept and typing this out is already driving me up the wall. Partly because it’s incredibly difficult to put into words, but mostly because I keep realizing that time is the most spontaneous, temperamental thing. So much so that not even a dictionary holds the amount of vocabulary needed to articulate such a concept.
Time feels like it can go super fast or it can feel super slow. A blink of an eye can hold a death. Or it can hold a whole life.
I’m not here to tell you to make the most of your time and give you motivational jibber-jabber. I just can’t stop thinking about this.
This week I shall work on being more punctual.