What is time if it’s purpose is to keep you waiting for the next moment? Is there a such thing as time in the way we view it in actuality, or is it a figment of our own creation; our imagination; how we want to see the world?
See, we go through life wandering from moment to moment as if we’re on cruise control and there’s an alert set out solely to notify us of moments to come, as each moment passes. Why is it so hard to be fully present in each moment? To feel each emotion, to really delve into what the moment has to offer, rather than bracing and hoping for the next one? Why does being alone have to be terrifying, even if only for an instance? We find ourselves uncomfortable by our own presence, and look to fill the void with something; anything. But if time is just but a figure of the imagination, what’s the sense in wondering and worrying about anything in the now or later? Learning to let go of the what ifs and the nay sayers to accept each step for what it is; a step. There is no right or wrong, only what you choose and what chooses you.