Monday, 29 September 2008


The clock strikes seven, must get up.


Don’t have any of it, I’m bored, have too much of it.


Our modern lives depend on it. I plan my day around its illusive presence. I'm on a schedule, a timescale, a time stranglehold and when I run out I am in deep trouble.

My life is measured in seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years and decades. I am petrified about losing the track of time as you are my master.


We have cycles, periods, loops, fast time, slow time. We must measure it all to the mille second, and use it wisely. There is never time for anything including good times and the bad times.

Time is money, we kneel in front of your imperious presence, and you are the Lord, our God.
Hurry up, quickly, get the finger out! Time waits for no one .But time snails along. Time moves forward and backwards.


I am enslaved to you. The damp air of the past determines my future, the crystal ball of the future shapes the present moment. Could have, should have, would have.



Is this real?

Am I merely dreaming?

Is time tangible or simply a concept?

What if time is an illusion of the subconscious?

What else is there if time is a figment of our imagination?

Allow me this precious moment to contemplate your worth.

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