Time is a cruel companion, both finite and infinite

Time is inescapable and constant, which is both a blessing and a curse. A thought about time that often crosses my mind, is that it is truly one of the only constant things, but it taunts and teases, warping reality. It’s tangible, yet intangible.

Time both heals and torments, and is often both the medicine and the cure. All feelings dissipate with time, and nothing, truly nothing, lasts forever. This concept is both comforting and disquieting. Time heals all wounds, and yet also dulls joy. In my happiest moments, I have the alarming realization that they will end. Ironically, it’s difficult to come to the same realization in moments of pain and suffering, but eventually they too end.

I often feel that time invades my privacy when it tampers with my memory, but i’m thankful. My most painful memory, something etched into my heart and mind; it’s dull, thanks to time. It still has the power to bring me to tears when I unravel it’s layers and contemplate the monstrosity in all it’s glory, but i’m mostly numb to it’s effect. It’s a beast in itself, but time is the patron saint of detachment. I despise her, but thank her, for she allowed me to continue on. She also gave me no choice but to move on, as she herself marches ever forward.

No second is longer than the last and it seems hard to fathom. Each second of pain is exactly as long as each second of happiness. The greatest terror mankind could ever unleash would be the ability to control time, the world would probably stop spinning. Shells of a humans living in past glories and failures, we would live in any time but the present, forgetting that the present is a product of the past and the foundation of the future. Is there truly anything as important as the present?

We will only ever truly exist in the present, as every moment is the present. By the time you experience the future, it is no longer the future, but the present. The past that you contemplate, once too was the present.

The irony once again, is that in spite of all these things, time goes ever on, unfeeling, unthinking, and unstoppable. Perhaps I write this from a place of emotional anguish, but I am left at an impasse.

Time will dull the ache i currently feel which I am both grateful and regretful of. In a matter of time, I can return to my former self, with a whole heart and a clear mind. Yet, in the dulling of this pain, I once again become vulnerable to experiencing it again.