Time will pass, whether you are ready for it or not.
When the sun reaches its’ lofty peak, all shadows are cast out from the earth, and light fills every corner. The pinnacle of the day is blinding, and time, for a brief moment, stands static as it basks in gleaming openness.
When the sun crawls beneath the horizon, and the shadows of the day are long and heavy, time feels slow to move. And yet, the sun will sink faster than you expect, and the world around you will plunge into darkness, and the sacred time until morning feels endless.
Some spend this time in sleep. Their minds’ no longer concerned with clarity and perception, but more with the hazy hyper-reality of dreams.
Some lie supine. They watch phosphorescent green numbers flick from 4 to 5, and think of the black surrounding them, their blinding problematic lives.
Some find the darkness of night most illuminating. Bright minds dulled by sepia drinks that unchain words from tongues and permit the yielding of writhing flesh to carnivorous desires and weightless rhapsodies.
Then the sun begins its relentless process once again, vanquishing the shadows of the sin-fuelled night. It comes too quickly, and you always think this. Even for the rested and virtuous, the sun rises too quickly.
Time moves swiftly in transitory moments. And time will pass, whether you are ready for it or not.
