Time

Time is a sadistic, cold hearted bitch that does nothing but antagonize me.

5 years ago
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"It's a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up."
~J.K. Rowling

Time is a killer. Literally. It will sneak up on you about age 8 and from there on, throw every piece of responsibility, fear, loathing, and judgement it has your way. It tries to candy coat it, offering small bits of happiness along the way.

I remember when I was young, yelling at adults and my peers, proclaiming "I cannot wait to be an adult! I am going to do whatever I want, whenever I want!" I think we all do this at some point though.

Teenage years seem to pass us by so quickly as we focus on school, blooming love interests, and the changes going on in our bodies. We learn to drive, which is a HUGE freedom to most, and once we acquire a vehicle, we are gone. We dread coming home. We wish our friends and ourselves could just go be wild, fun, and crazy forever.

Reality sets in at different ages. I'm going to go ahead and say probably about 20 is average. You have to start paying your own bills usually, some of us think about starting a family before too long, you've probably (or probably will soon) moved out of your parents'. Twenty is a rough time. You are looking forward to 21 so you can legally do what you've probably been doing since 15 anyways, but now you can be caught doing it with little to no repercussions.

After 21, you're life is kinda on auto-pilot. You really don't have much to look forward to anymore. You are fully legal, fully responsible, you just hit the "this fully sucks" stage.

I'm about to turn 23 in a matter a few days. What have I really done with my life? I thought I had it all figured out. I have a beautiful daughter, who I really can't complain about too much. She is on a scale of babies pretty calm, not too fussy, sleeps well at night, takes to a schedule very well... who wouldn't want that baby?

I had a significant other. We were going to get married, have more kids, the whole white picket fence dream. Then life, being the super cunt that she is occasionally, throws me a curve ball. I don't know if it was me or him that really decided things just weren't going to get better, but I know that he decided to quit and run away.

I still have this sore spot in my chest that every time I think about us, I choke back tears and gasp for breath. I should have listened to everyone around me, but I was a fool in love. I didn't think anyone knew us like we knew us, therefore they were all wrong.

Ugghh. Just that thought alone make me want to hurl.

I miss curling up in bed next to him. I miss the smell of him on his pillow. I miss that lil rush of excitement when I heard him walking through the front door every day. I miss the way he'd grab me around my waist, pull me to him, and kiss me all over. I miss how he could make me feel like absolutely nothing was wrong, when in fact the world around us was crashing down.

I thought I was so done with him, I thought I harbored hate for him even. I was just mad at the world for not acknowledging that I'm allowed to love who I want. Instead friends, family, they just all aimed to tear us down, and they succeeded.

They say time heals, but I have to disagree. Time doesn't heal. It numbs. We all bare the scars of past problems. Every single one of us. We either learn and evolve, or we accept and remain stuck in the same position year after year. I don't want to be stuck. So with this boulder in my belly, lump in my throat, and lead weight on my mind I have to take a leap of faith.

I asked the moon last night to heal me of worry, stress, and anxiety. To help me find which way is right, and to help guide me.

We'll just have to wait and see what she has in store for us now.

every day is like a deep breath in and finally when i sleep it's exhalation in the rising sun.

to try to hold on to it is just as futile as holding my breath. i can only do it for forty five seconds and then i start to feel faint.

it's alright, because tomorrow will be a good day too.

I've learned that there is no truth to the statement, "time heals all wounds." No it doesn't. In time you figure out ways to deal with wounds, but it does not heal them.

View Thinker #1febfc's profile

word! it doesn't heal them. time only makes them into a really giant scar, or gets you used to the notion that you're always going to have a gaping wound, so you become more mindful to stay away from it, but sometimes they never heal!

View Thinker #5f1f0a's profile

I completely agree!

View Thinker #006666's profile

In my experience, time does heal all wounds. Maybe I've never been hurt enough to know for sure, though.

View Thinker #c00f9b's profile

I guess I consider figuring out how to deal with something a form of healing.

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Sometimes I hate time. It leaves me with these empty feelings similar to nostalgia. I often wonder where my life ran away to. How I got sucked into this craziness. I remember all of these things now that I haven't remembered for years. I hate it so much! I wish that I could forget them all again. It just hurts so much to know how I was treated not only by my father and by people I thought I was close to, but to remember how I treated myself. I would blame myself for all of these things. That would force me farther into the darkness for progressively longer periods of time. Suddenly you don't know where it started and you've forgotten everything. But as you drift closer to the edge of reason you recall it all.

You know who startedt it and how.

You know the words that were spoken and how bad it hurt.

Suddenly, for the first time in two years you're crying your little eyes out. The hurt is too deep though. The tears can't mend it. Nothing can.

It is a type of scar that no one can see. Despite all of the scars you bear, they can't begin to describe this one. As you remember, you try everything you can to just pretend like it doesn't hurt, like it doesn't bother you, like the people didn't really do it. You try to convince yourself that it was all a by product of an over active imagination.

Really you're just forcing yourself back.

Time doesn't stop there.

It moves more slowly. But what do you know? There's no relative motion here.

You're alone....

Time seems insignificant untill you find out that you don't have much left.

I hate the idea of time measurments. We could have made the world with 30 hours instead of twenty-four. The sun would have still rose and set at the same time. But of course being human we had to measure it. We had to know the exact point of the sun rising and setting. We couldn't just appreciate the magic of it all. Now, time has become our curse. We are too concerned about it. We look at the clocks, our watches, our cell phones all the time. And for what? So that we won't be late. Even if we don't have anywhere to go we still want to know what time it is all the time. Maybe, we should just start wasting time.

tick tock tick tock

i hate that clock on the wall. the spinning hands, the forceful minutes passing into hours.

tick tock tick tock

i wish there was a way for time to stand still whenever i pleased, so the moments i spend lost in you were forever, and the moments i spend dreading are short.

tick tock tick tock

i love looking forward to things. the feeling of anticipation. but i hate when the second hand seems to slow, the minutes just never pass quick enough.

tick tock tick tock

one, two, three, four. he's walking out that door. five, six, seven, eight. you know you can't make him see straight. nine, ten, eleven, twelve. here comes the stroke of midnight.

tick tock tick tock

((((((alarm clocks.)))) (((snooze)))

sleep.

I don't like linear time.

Parallel time (or multiverse time as it's more commonly known) I am totally in love with.

No paradoxes, or at least no paradoxes that require any sort of faith to explain away...

and a lot of people don't like it because it makes time travel pointless, but I myself love that delicious irony.

I love it.

And I love the idea that somewhere out there everything and nothing exists.

I want a fucking time machine. I want to go back and see if Jesus really lived, and if he was the son of god, thought he was the son of god, was just a guy with boderline magical oratory skills and the ability to heal the sick, or just some guy. I don't know though. This being me we're taking about, I'd probably end up fucking him. Maybe they will invent a time machine, and it tuns out I went back, and I'm Mary Magdalene. Who knows... P.S. Blue square, who doesn't love the idea that somewhere out there everything and nothing exists? I think it's awesome. If only I could figure how to bop from reality to reality....

Ticking away our rather insignifigant lives, time is the invisible force that pushes us on. We cannot stop it, we cannot make it go faster. It is the fourth dimension that we three dimensional objects exist on.

It's just too bad that invisible forces make us continue on more so than things we can see and understand I guess...

My roommate was on the phone with her boyfriend last night, while I was talking to my fishes and eating an apple.

(They like the conversation.)

She told him she wishes she had a fast-forward button so she could just speed time up and be done with school and finals and all of it, but still remember it all and how she felt.

I took another bite of my apple as I thought about it, and I decided a fast-forward button would be detrimental to one's well-being.

The whole reason we have a 70+ years lifespan is because our emotions and memories and sensations are so complex that if you were to try and fit any part of your life into a shorter time span, the rush of feeling all of what you experienced would be so overwhelming that one might just kill themselves.

I think my fishes agree with me. Or they want some of my apple.

The altered reality of his lover bled into his world and their mutually altered states forcefully introduced him to alien fields of vision and unfamiliar methods of thought. A life without time, once a poetic device to romanticize their disdain for clocks, became a disconcerting affliction transmitted like some metaphysical STD through hours of lovemaking, days of conversation, and months of very little sleep. When asked to relate the story of his recent life, he found that a stubborn refusal to sleep over many weeks had left him unable to determine how far back certain memories were placed. Distinctions of whether an anecdote took place the previous day or week became impossible, and the dreaming world that was soaking into his waking world began to inextricably blend his visions and memories.

It was some time after the aforementioned lover faded away and he had grown more comfortable with the steady self-destruction that was central to his life that he came upon the idea of allowing this breakdown of his mind to continue in much the same fashion as it had been, to the effect of finally being able to reach that state of timeless potential that he always felt his reality had been moving towards. With silent anticipation of never again being confined to the idle prison of sleep, and of breaking free of the confines of predictable thought,

he worked

and bled

and stared

and waited.

In his most lucid moments, he could see it all laid out in front of him.

He could see it all unraveling.

And it was beautiful.

View Thinker #000000's profile

Looking back, I think that I would like this thought to represent me more than any other.

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