Time is running out
Obsessed with punctuality, I find myself checking the time far more often than necessary… But what is far, and why?
Is it the knots, the appointments, or even the threads, the events, that count? How much left do we have? To do what?
Till when does what we do make sense, and does it make any sense to look for a sense, at all?
In the dead of night, while everything is both at a halt, and recharging for the next day, you realize that your time is about to run out. This is why you would like to have it all instantly; an urgency that not everyone has. It’s not about insomnia, but about re-living. You do ephemeral things, but you don’t waste time, you live it; you make sure that the final embrace is once again shifted by that little something that will postpone the truly (oh, yes) unmissable appointment.