How can you best classify time? Is it a ‘thing?’ A ‘concept?’ What is it exactly? The nature of time is debatable I suppose. A physicist could give you a long mathematical explanation, while a philosopher could argue that it doesn’t exist at all. To each their own, I suppose.
Even if we can’t agree on what time is, most people would agree that it has some kind of value. It is something that there is a limited supply of, and it is often in high demand. How many times have you heard someone say they wished they had more time? Tragically, all too often people squander the time they have. There is an expression derived from a quote by Oscar Wilde.
“Nowadays people know the price of everything, and the value of nothing.”
This topic drudges up another
succubus woman from my past. Women have always been my detriment. I tried counting all of them once, but I ran out of fingers. One of the many reasons I don’t date anymore. C’est la vie. At least I have a near-endless amount of reference material.
We had this constant push and pull between us. Back and forth, left and right. Stuck on a never-ending loop. After awhile it got rather tiresome. I remember saying ‘You know, in ten years, we’ll wish we hadn’t wasted all of this time?’ That was around ten years ago now. Sometimes I wonder if she does or not. She may not even remember.
I wrote her a poem once. Nothing elaborate; just simple and to the point. I liked it, so did she. We were dorky like that. It’s not one for sharing, but it was nice. When I finally accepted that things weren’t going anywhere, I wrote another. It was a good way to close a chapter in my life. Literary therapy, if you will. I never bothered to pass it along, it was mostly for myself anyway. She was long gone by that point. I thought it befitting to include it in this thought for the day. It kind of echos my point.
“Dancing a decade away”
We spin and we sway,
We twirl all around,
Our souls intertwined,
As we slide across the ground,
It seems it’s only a moment,
Though many years have passed,
It’s hard to believe,
That time has gone so fast,
Pounding, and pounding,
We hear the rhythm of the song,
Who would have guessed,
A dance could last this long,
We may have grown older,
But, our grip remains tight,
As we move closer, and closer,
To the dying of the light,
Our bodies move never-ending,
Like waves on the shore,
But, our legs have grown tired,
From years spent on the floor,
I love the feel of your body,
The look of your face, so sweet,
But, my dear, I think it’s time,
For us to rest our feet.
How often do people waste time in their lives? Too often, I would say. There’s always another day. Maybe tomorrow. One day. When the time is right. It’s endless. The problem people need to realize is that time is a finite resource. Ever-fleeting, never replenishing.
I had a conversation with someone once. They were having an unnecessarily stupid argument with someone. It kills me when people take what they have for granted. I told them ‘A day will come when you’ll wish you had one more day with them. You’ll cry and plead. You would give anything for just one more day. Today, is that day.’
It always starts with one day. Then, it’s a week. A week turns into a month. Before you know it, a year has passed. A year, a month, a week, a single day; it doesn’t matter how long. What matters is that you’ll never get it back. Pride, fear, uncertainty; there are an endless list of things that will hold you back. But, you have to remember that you’ll only ever have this day forward.
Stop wasting time.
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