T I M E

Part 1/? of Stuff I Write on the Bus

Time was, in itself, was impossible to understand. Surely, time reflected certainty - we could all check the clock and be given a time. However, time is an unfortunate thing to exist. It constantly reminds us of how we are bound by a short period to structure our lives, or how it could never turn backwards, permanently removing the option of relieving any blissful memories again. And again. And again.

 

Oh, time, an unfortunate and superficial manmade creation. Always rushing, always hurrying, always thinking we have to accomplish so much in a day.

 

Perhaps, time's only saving grace is providing us comfort that what has passed, has passed. As much as we are unable to relive precious moments once again, we are, too, never again, able to relive the excruciating pain of the past. 

Author's Note

Please ignore grammar problems, thank you!