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time is making fools of us again

9. května 2021

my mum said last night: it feels like i don't have enough time to enjoy this. what if i won't enjoy it here enough?

perhaps we do have more in common than i ever thought. it is the unbearable notion circling through my mind. time is, but i am not. i am not there when the time comes. it seems i am the one who runs away when the right time presents itself. all the things i ever want to do can never possibly fit into that amount i am given. no matter how much it is. like i can never fulfill myself inside the small box called time. 

whenever people do not understand me, i just want to shake with all of them and scream, don't you see it? don't you see how little time we have and we are just wasting it with this nonsense? but shaking, no shaking, they never see. they never know. 

you can never see time if you hardly see what and who is standing right in front of your nose. time is the school in which we learn, time is the fire in which we burn. my forever favorite by Delmore Schwartz.

it is not the question of what if time fails me, but what if i am the one failing the time i am given as i can never see it when it reaches me? i know all those moments when time showed me the path, yet i have ignored it to make new ones, expanding into new time-lapses. will i ever miss it like those small pieces i have given away?

what if, as my mother said, i am never gonna enjoy it fully as i intend to. in my head. not for anybody else. but for me. 

what if our time passed by and we missed it? because we did not put the value on it of the enjoyment. and is enjoying the actual measure of time? not the clock itself? but how much you have given of yourself to it, then you can count it.

the depth of the small moments we can never see is the metric system for time passed by. never to come back. never to be given to us again. there goes my hero. watch him as he goes.

only when you dare to look into the mirror and count the wrinkles on your face. that is the space and the ruler of our time. 

and when the time goes by, as the ultimate frenemy, will we greet it or will we punch it? 

shall we cherish it or shall we lose it?

and when you see it, on my face, will you know i did good or i was just a passer-by? 

and last but not least, will you ever look back?

i find it strange, as we fill in the time with moments we cannot possibly see that particular moment, but wrinkles of laugh lines, angry lines, sadness lines later. being by many years changed by our mind for memories we actually want to see and want to forget. so no matter the amount of time given, it will change accordingly for us, without us knowing, yet again. 

decisions called mistakes to turn into the experience and eventually into wisdom. 

time is, but i am not. i am nothing compared to time, yet time is all added to me. 

"time is making fools of us again" by Dumbledore in the sixth book.


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