Time is a strange old thing isn’t it, it goes so quickly and so slowly all at once. I think it also must be confused because when we are enjoying ourselves it fly’s and by and when things aren’t going great it crawls by. Having said that it does have its good points: when it gives a lot of itself time helps us to heal, in most cases it makes us wiser, and once enough of it has passed and we look back, we usually have better perspective and can see things we hadn’t been able to see previously. In retrospect.
I believe time is something that we should all be so grateful for and something that has also been taken for granted. In a couple of hours I turn a year older and suddenly time has become incredibly important to me in these few hours. Why is it that as we approach the turn of a new age time has this incredible significance? On April 15th 2011 I know time is not going to mean as much, it is only as I approach a new age that it does? strange.
I feel slightly modernist in my rant now – stream of consciousness, it is starting to take on the tone of my protagonist in this tale I am writing about days I never had.