Why does time pass as it does?
It makes one remember life through its ebbs and flows.
I feel like I remember what time once was,
An hour, an eternity, no difference to show.
Days pass slow for the young, bold, and happy.
The youth count each minute as their lives unfold before each of them and
The bold count each second with deeds they commit and risks they take and
Happy hours flow like a syrup.
But what of the aged, the anxious, the depressed?
For age convolutes time into a rushing torrent ofdeadspaceandlossandloveandmemoriesanddesiresand
Anxiety makes time wild, calm, stray, remain, erratic, consistent, while
Depression stops it.
Thinking about time in a vacuum can be tricky. We all experience it differently with each passing day, but there is one consistency I hear. That time passes slow for the young and quickly for the elderly. Why would this happen? What makes time do this? Is it as I mentioned above? Do our brains just delete that empty space? Are we just machines that are saving room in a failing hard disk? And what of the near infinite number of ways to experience time that are altered by personal issues? Mental health? By any damn thing that changes our focus and draws us in or out or near or away? WHAT IS TIME!?
Time is a soft fabric in which the whole of the universe exists.
Time is a lens, of sorts, through which we can see the past, but never relive it.
Time is an ever-moving arrow, always going forward, never back.
Time is immutable. Time is unforgiving and unfair.
Time is up.