time – this word evokes so much despair in my young soul. i feel with every cell, every farandolae in my being, that it is a box of sand (a different size box for every person) being poured through your hands. you can try to catch it. you can try to hold on to it. you can create a whole system of pipes and conveyer belts to keep it as long as you can, but ultimately, the sand can run out and you’re gone, all your special systems fall down as you cry out in despair.
i hate watches and clocks and every other instrument made to teach you, to drone through your skull that you. are. passing. away. slowly. it makes me shiver to see the secondhand skipping gleefully along each number, it makes me look away.
everyone is on a different chapter on their table of contents. you don’t know if a plot twist is coming up, or a tragic ending. you don’t know how long your book is gonna be.
and don’t get me wrong, i’m not trying to get preachy and tell you how you need to spend your … sand … wisely. although that is true. i’m just pouring out from my heart.
don’t get busy (another word i hate) and forget that you only have so much sand. often, i want to shake people and yell “you are spending all your sand on something you don’t even like!” don’t run around fulfilling obligations and going to school and playing sports; actually sit down and decide what you are going to do with the sand you have left – as much or as little as that ends up being. don’t get to your last year of life and say “well it was fun doing tasks for that one person i couldn’t say no to and reading that one series all my friends were reading and watching that one show i thought was funny and playing that one sport that broke my leg in the fifth grade…”
get out and do something before the last grain falls!