Time is a beast of relativity. It laughs when we laugh - but it also
smirks at our sadness. I'm trying to spend more days getting organized
and being creative but in those uphill battles, it seems like time is a
an ever-present gale force wind pushing me backwards.
Time stresses me out. I always feel like I'm not where I should be for
my age, even though there are no pre-defined barriers - only societal
myths and false truths based on comparison. It may be because being
a musician, I often think about fame as some far-off, elusive being
that just may besmirch me - or maybe I will never touch it and only
hear about it as a traveler in a distant land.
But if fame is a distant traveler - then time is the sun. Real. Visible.
Creating heat. Stemming tides. Tangible. Actual. Fame is some
party in an ice castle in Switzerland - it only lasts as long as the ice
can take the body heat and seasonal flux. Time goes on. Time is
here. Time never stops. For anyone.
In The Watchmen, the philosophy of time is studied through the
character of Dr. Manhattan. His childhood memories are based on
images of assembling wrist watches and clocks for his dad and all
of the little metal pieces that hold it all in balance - in time. It's
interesting to think that time just may be all in our heads.
And to live in the freedom of that thought.
