Cherished time
Aug. 24th, 2006 09:25 amAs I become aware of the expanse of time that stretches before me, I wish I could clasp it to my breast and savour it. This is mine, I want to whisper, as I gently caress it.
Perhaps the way I grasp at it and hoard it is childish. Time, like money, is to be spent. Is it so strange, nonetheless, to take pleasure in the knowledge that there are no restrictions, no deadlines, no obligations?
I treasure it, but the real question is, will I respect it in the morning? Or will I look back and curse all the wasted time, hoarded to no benefit?
Please forgive me if I am reluctant to loosen my grasp. This is mine, this time you covet. This is my luxury, the metaphorical boudoir where I fall deep into the plush, soft cushions and sleep until I wake refreshed and renewed.
God damn, I need a time machine.
Perhaps the way I grasp at it and hoard it is childish. Time, like money, is to be spent. Is it so strange, nonetheless, to take pleasure in the knowledge that there are no restrictions, no deadlines, no obligations?
I treasure it, but the real question is, will I respect it in the morning? Or will I look back and curse all the wasted time, hoarded to no benefit?
Please forgive me if I am reluctant to loosen my grasp. This is mine, this time you covet. This is my luxury, the metaphorical boudoir where I fall deep into the plush, soft cushions and sleep until I wake refreshed and renewed.
God damn, I need a time machine.