Biding for time, I waste my days in a whirl of activity and emotion. The tides that come to wash away the debris of things left behind, they carry with them a chill and a hope of places far beyond my reach.
One step off the track... I feel lost.
Two steps, and I feel free.
Three steps, and I never feel like turning back.
Like dust our past flakes and falls apart, blow by the wind, it covers our lives , layer by layer.
That which is not used in soon forgotten under the dusty layers of past. Old sins are forgotten and new ones are forged. Time is only a modern adaptation of an old idea. Like the wheel, and all other great inventions, time was simply a facade, just an idea without a use. However, all great ideas are eventually corrupted by the power of human greed, they are marketed and adapted, made "useful". We are sold back these abominations of creativity, these perversions of free thought, made to believe that our lives will be made easier, more efficient, better.
But does one ever stop and contemplate these improvements? Should one not approach a new idea with caution and a bit of skepticism?
Does time really help us manage our actions, our ideas, our sleep. Does time really allow us the freedom to break our lives into easily manageable blocks, or does it restrict us to this form? Perhaps we are bound by the very things that we believe brings us freedom. Feed your thoughts, question everything, don't become complacent, and above all encourage differences in thinking, the individual is beautiful but the community is powerful.
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