Transient beauty Tick tock, tick tock. Time.
Lasting forever, yet only for the blink of an eye. The most transient beauty man has ever found. Or was it created? Candle marks, sun dials, pocket watches, internal ‘tickers’, all have become what we live by. Late for work? Early supper? Who decides? Why do we have time, when each second is just as fleeting as the one before, each minute only composed of 60 soft ticks each hour only the minutes before and each lifetime only composed of minutes, hours, seconds, that make up days, months and years. We keep track of time, only to begin to fear what happens when time finally runs out. What is to become of us when the clock runs dry? Only time will tell. When will our destruction cause the end of the world? Not for a long time. This one thing becomes all consuming, taking up our thoughts, taking up our lives, our lives that are ruled by time.
If time could be one thing, it could be a circle. But instead, we try to make it a line; from birth to death, like a line on a page. From beginning to end, like a scratch on a wall, lines within a continuous circle, rolling upon a line perhaps. The world was flat, and now its round, people die and then people are born. All things change with time, yet time itself never stays the same for more than an impression that may not even last past the next.
Time. An entire world of philosophy that we crave to- Eh? “Helloooo. Are you even listening to me?” Of course I’m not. Duh. “Yes.”
“Oh. Alright then.” … “Well?” “Well what?” (people can make the most interesting noises in the midst of frustration.) “I said I’m going to get a coke. Do you want diet or regular?” “Oh. Diet.” “Thank you. Jeez, you’re hopeless.” Pssht. This is such a waste of time. |
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