Time is a concept; a construct.
Irrelevant and yet still pressing.
We all have a finite amount of time and what we choose to do with it is what defines us.
We all live so differently and yet, somehow the same.
Afraid to die, afraid of time.
Not enough time.
Never enough time.
Not to do the things we really want to.
Instead we are conditioned to do the will of others.
Conditioned to spend our time as slaves.
But there are those that have beguiled their way into better time spent.
Sweet release of the chains and living freely, unashamed and unpressed for time.
I wish to be one, are you?