Jan 27, 2012

Fuck you clock

Eyes are bloodshot and weary. Breathing is labored. Neck is sore from constant nodding. And it’s only 10:00 AM.

What the hell is the matter with time? Has the viscosity of the space time continuum increased from last I checked? My tasks are done, I’ve read what little news isn’t blocked in my company and time idles by like a root canal. The papers are organized, the pencils are sharpened, the pens are categorized by color and I’ve just returned from my third piss. Fucking time.

Where were you last week? Nowhere to be found, or just peeking your head while I barely made deadlines. While I was just able to get to a toilet before I juiced my shorts. Last week, hours, turned to minutes, turned to seconds. Now you’ve suddenly become the most generous intangible concept ever. Now seconds are minutes, now minutes are days, now days are weeks and I suddenly have all the time in the world… Why do you insist on being an ill-timed booty call. Never there when you need it and always there when you’re unavailable or just plain interested.

Thing is time isn’t fickle… we are… and that’s the truth. We have too many trinkets to squander time and no real focus to squeeze that last drop of juice from a minute. Think about it, with just a little focus, how many pages could you read in an hour? How many short stories could you write in a day? How many lunges, push-ups, jumping jacks and pull-ups could you do? How many miles could you run? How many new dishes could you try? How many chores could you finish?

And that’s all that’s missing from that fucking moment when you want to spit at the clock for mocking you with its creepy-crawly seconds. Focus. The concentration of will and energy to do what you will tell about to people when you’ve achieved it. Sometimes we actually run into drive and focus… sometimes we wield time like wisps of ether that are alchemized into concrete results… and other times the hands of a clock align themselves perfectly so that one is on 2 o’clock, another is at 10 o’clock and the third is at 12 o’clock so time itself is basically giving you the finger.

Fine, you’ll have it your way on this occasion, Mr. Time. But pretty soon, I’ll make you my bitch and take over the world.



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