Funny thing, time is. The human race has been trying hard to wrap its minds around this intangible concept (think some bloke einstein got pretty serious about it) but let's face it, time's a pretty slippery idea.
Time feels linear, but I circle back to countless moments passed, words unspoken and things not done. I linger on future possibilities, worry about things not happened. History repeats itself, they say, and really, when days are virtually indistinguishable without the aid of timekeepers and calendars, who can blame it?
Time ought to be constant, but episodes seemingly near in the mind often surprise as faraway, distant when put into days, seasons and years. Didn't that feel recent? Half a decade ago feels fresh to the memory, like an item hastily placed on a bookshelf to be revisited in the near future. Yet we struggle to remember what we ate for lunch Thursday last week. What day is it? Where did Sunday go?
Favourite t-shirts fading over years, jeans tightening overnight. Finding swollen batteries where there were new batteries just a few days ago, yet finding a pristine class photo, smiles unfaltering over the years, sun bright from the day it was taken. It all feels haphazard, how time arranges itself.
Endless nights. Days that go by in a blink. Something so all-encompassing, feels like you can't escape its reach. Tell that to the unyielding plastic swirling in the ocean, the undecayed radioactive waste.
Time's many things. Time's a concept. Time's precious. Time's merciless. Time's unrelenting. Time's up.
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