On Time

Time is indescribable but we try and try to force our selves into thinking the opposite and that all in good time, we will be where we desire. But when does that stop, when does time stop? If we all knew exactly when our time would end, we would recreate our morals to be more desirable to ourselves and the people around us. We would take care in arranging where things fit and when things could go right, and where things could go wrong. But ignoring the idiosyncrasy of defining time, what would be be without it? If no deadlines were set, no dynasties excited and no months were apparent, what would be the excitement of living and the thrill of never knowing when our time may come. We must use every second to our advantage, take each breath with full appreciation of breathing it, and become one with our own measures of the immeasurable. It would be easier if I knew that on December 21st 2041, my time would become instinct, but that would take the ecstasy out of life and turn it into useless pages of agenda. Life is short, so live it up or count it down.