old father time

"The light had the quality of water. It was moving through a conscious element. Time is a player. Time is a part of today, not simply a measure of its passing."
-The World & Other Places





Most people don't realize that time is a part of every single thing we do. Time, to us, is some ambiguous force that we can dissect and slice into tiny pieces, rather than acknowledging time as a whole. The sand in the hour glass means so much more than just sand.

We use time simply as a means of measurement, not fully appreciating the fleeting beauty of what time really means. Time. Hours. These hours are all we have, and they will not last for ever. We will run out of time.

I have been so reflective lately. I keep looking back, wishing to leave this life and return to what once was. I'm just now realizing that what was, is no more. The past does not exist. All of those minutes are gone forever, lost in an abyss of nothingness. Those are seconds I will never get back.

Time. How quickly it seems to pass by. How long the last twenty years has seemed, but how quickly the next twenty will disappear right in front of me. Time is a part of everything I do.

I've never been one to plan out my day, week, life. I'd rather take things as they come. So many of my friends are so busy planning that they are not taking advantage of time as it is. Life as it is, today.

I want to dance my way through life. I do not want to spend my years never really having lived. The day to day bores me. I'd like something fresh, please.

I don't enjoy thinking about time which has passed. Hours and moments which I will never get back. After something is over, all that is left is our perception of said event. We'll never again own it, we'll never again feel it. Its gone. Nonexistent. That scares me. THAT hurts. Just think about what it means for something to just NOT exist.

I wish I had listened when people told me to enjoy being a kid because someday I'll wish I could go back to childhood. I never believed them. And here I am, looking back fondly on minutes passed. I can't go back. Even as I write this, time is falling through the hourglass and becoming nothing but history.

I'm currently staying at a cottage along the beach. Its raining and the sand is wet. The water is vast and immeasurable.

I feel bad for _____.I just want her to realize that her time with _______ WILL run out. Whether its months, years, or an entire lifetime away. Nothing lasts forever. The darkness will consume them.
She is rarely happy, and even when she is-she only focuses on that which digs at her inside. I don't know his side of the story, and I don't want to. All I know is that someday, she will look back on these times with sadness and regret. That is, unless she begins to take advantage of and truly dive into the beauty of their love. People don't last forever, and tomorrow has been promised to no one. I wish she would realize this now so that it doesn't haunt her later. She is beautiful and so is what they have. But when strife and anger is all that is ever focused on, strife and anger is what will continue to show its face over and over and over again.

I know that time is something that I cannot ignore, control or create. Time is everything around me. It is here. It is now. Then its gone.