Saturday, 30 March 2013


Today I spent time thinking about time-essentially wasting time passing the time contemplating how much time one can spend timing the time spent contemplating time. I know that time exists, that every second is a scientific fact yet time is not so concrete as gravity, not so clear cut as the mathematics of movement and yet not so complex as chemical structure.
It fascinates me that while every second lasts just as long as those immediately before and after yet time seems alternately to lag and speed demanding to be noticed, confounding our senses. We can almost convince ourselves that we have some sort of influence on time-that because it appears to change relative to our mental state, the activity we are engaging in or the company we are keeping.
Yet we are also near constantly aware of our powerlessness over time. We are older ever second we are alive-a ticking clock tending us towards the time our battery runs down. When we are under pressure it seems like time is flying away from us, when we are waiting for a train it is though time is infinitesimally slow. Sometimes you want a few precious moments more with someone with whom every moment is golden and there are others with whom you feel time is a black hole-that time with them is something you will never get back.
Time fascinates me because arguably we waste every moment yet perfectly utilise it simultaneously. One can say that attempting to consider things we do to have any value when really we are just passing time towards the end of our allotted amount is futile. Yet opposing this is the idea that when every moment is so finite and precious there is no way to waste them because their very precariousness gives them a beauty and value. 

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