Time

It has become painfully obvious to me that my time on this earth is limited. Suddenly every second seems to hold an infinity, either in potential or purgatory, depending on your perspective. They say seize the day. They also say that the sands of time spill from the grasping hand, but can rest in the cupped palm. Well, I don’t know if they say that, maybe I just made that up. Time is the currency, the current, the current. We spend our time in exchange for the things we desire. It rushes us along, towards what we will know. Drags us away from the warm hug of innocence or spirits us away to safety, shielding our tear blurred eyes from the darky cold. It coddles and curls around the sleeping mind like a warm spot of piss floating in a swimming pool. Then rings the doorbell and knocks before the bell has ceased to vibrate, like the cops, letting you know that your time is up. Time is always now. Time always tells the truth. Sometimes it takes a while for it to make its point, going on and on, like my ex girlfriend, in strange circles that surround nothing and don’t connect but somehow turn out to mean that we are no longer in synch. And of course at that point I become impatient and instead of addressing the issue ask why it took so damn long to say that. After getting so defensive I have to ask myself why and admit that time may have a point. True I did spend a lot of nights out, way out. Intoxicated and dancing with the stars which led to long eternal sessions of cuddled up on a red love seat inside my heart with a harem of other mediums of existence. In retrospect, I can actually dig why time is not really feeling me at the moment. But, I’m saying,, I cant just come right out and say that. I have my pride and besides, if time really understood the real me, we wouldn’t be having these problems. There I go again, blaming time for what we both did. But then again, I take back what I said earlier. Time does lie. Maybe lie is too harsh a word. Maybe the reason we don’t get along so great is that we are so much alike. We are not as honest with others or each other as we should be. Who’s fault is it if someone wants to believe that we will always be there? Obviously no one wants to ask because they already know the answer. So, I guess it isn’t fare to blame time, because I never said I was always going to be there either. But I’ve never just run out on another person, not without saying something. That is another big difference between time and I. I always want to explain whereas it seems that time doesn’t really feel the need to.