Thoughts on Time

Time is a funny thing. It never stops, never waits. That's why we panic, at least a little bit, when we see a dead clock or a clock with no hands. It's a mistake and a lie, a misconception and a farce. Like a burger with no bun. In that respect, time is much like the weather. You can try and predict it, but you never know for sure what's going to happen. You can calculate and plan your actions, but sometimes you might still end up in the rain.

Time is your friend sometimes. It depends much on how you look at it, but sometimes it's not so much an unbeatable enemy in that game called life, than an inevitable factor that makes no sense fighting in the first place. That's what I think about a lot these days, because I don't have much time left here in London. And it's kind of a scary thought. It's already been eight months since I first came here. Eight months. Hard to believe, but true.

Time is a constant, there's no doubt about that. But depending on how you treat it, what you do with it, with whom you spend it, it feels different. Of course, a minute is a minute and an hour is an hour, but some feel shorter and some feel longer. And more often than not, when you look back on time that has already passed, it feels like an instant, a blink of an eye. And the only thing I can think of is to live life busily. Day after day, all the time.