Time, fuck time.
I used to love taking my time to do things, it was for me a moment of self consciousness, that made me realize and pinpoint any kind of scenario that would happen had I take my course of action by instinct. It did wonders (and terrible) things to me, in a way, getting too much time to think, or act, can lead to many lost opportunities.
Time runs in a different pace for everyone, for some three weeks can seem to be eternal. For others, it can be three seconds, in a particular scenario. In a particular moment in time I’ve decided to give up on thinking about time and acted like nothing in the world cared anymore, the end result of not respecting it, was horrific.
The only time I still keep a track of is this: 812 days. This most important number is set to remind me of what the hell happens when I act erratically towards time, in a self-destructive behaviour that not only affects myself, it hurts people around me that care about me.
But now I’m faced with my biggest villain of all once again, time. Because more than ever, I’ll need to make sure weeks seems like minutes. I now have this whole lot of extra time now that, if used incorrectly could be catastrophic. Once again my timing was off and shit hit the fan, oh well.
So for now, all I have left is to give time, it’s time. Maybe one day I’ll get time by the horns and control that beast with all that I have. Unfortunately, in this particular moment, it was not the time.