Time
DemonSpawn
Date:
06/03/2005
Do you ever feel like Death is hanging
over your shoulder, waiting for you to kick it? And there is not
enough Time to do everything you want to, or need to?
It seems to me that Time would take
such a long time to go by when I was a kid and things were out of my
control. Now, it slips past without so much as a “Fuck you” on
its way by.
Maybe it's a good thing that I know I'm
running out. I had a friend who would have been twenty-nine this
year. Except he died when he was eighteen, on his bike. It seems to
me that he was never aware that he had such little Time. He always
seemed like he was going to live forever, and then one day, too soon,
he was gone.
I think that at some stage, all of us
have to put a time limit on stuff we need to get done. Like, before
it's too late.
I don't quite know where I'm going with all this, but I do know that Time is finite. It's a commodity. Not in the commercial sense, but in the sense that sometimes people need it, and don't have it.
In the way that sometimes people need
air. You can't buy it. If you find yourself drowning, there's no
salesman to stand there, pitching his best quality air for the lowest
price.
It's also a gift. We are given a small
portion of Time, and expected to do with it what we will. And when
you run out, that's it. Over, baby.
What have you done with your Time, so
far? And I'm not talking about spending the afternoon every Sunday
with your sick aunt in the loony bin, to save your soul. Your soul is
of no consequence in relation to this world, and the Time you have
now, while you are alive.
What have you really done? What have I
really done? I'm not certain if I've done anything that counts past
tomorrow, in the greater scheme of things, but I know I'm aware of
the quality of Time. For each of us, it is small, a brief second in a
longer moment, for each of us to make our mark, with sincerity,
integrity, and without regret.
And I think that although my friend
didn't realise he had come to the end of his, he managed to use his
Time to do that, in any case. His life was not wasted, his Time was
not wasted.
Take note. Take heed, and live. Make
your mark in your own way, and make your gift of Time one that is not
squandered.
In memory of Ian Falconer (04.02.76 – 29.12.94) and the countless others who have died so young.
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