Time is my lover. I’m so obsessed with time and planning that sometimes it hurts my head: numbers, hours and names. It’s all there. I cannot stop planning. Sometimes I think I’m so multitasking that I have to ask myself, where is my time? Where is my ME time? As I analyze this year, a new housing, new university, new everything I wonder where did that go. Now, a few months too late I want to go to the movies, I want to hang out, I want to discover this city, I want to visit the bay, I want to look at the trees. Why now? Now? NOW!!!!!!! I had almost 7 months to do it, and didn’t. I had to find myself alone in the sidewalk looking up to the sky, seeing the shadows of the palm tree that was always there to bring me company. I had just discovered that she was alone also.
At the end of the day, you discover that you could be surrounded by people and feel left out, in a date with your own self. At the end of the day, the school days are over, the BA is over, you and your house are over, your college is over, your “singleness” is over, and you can never be back. That is why you have to answer yourself: what do I want to do? So that when time comes you will be able to handle your solitude with pride, with strength. I guess sometimes planning everything seems as the escape route of pain. You try to convince yourself you will know what will happen. And yes, you feel more secure, at the end, time still dies.
In general, I ask myself, what could I have done? Many questions travel my head at the same time the most secure things fall as a broken glass into my feet. It was in the news today. Time is passing, money is running out, jobs are being cut and difficult to find. I know. By the time I end the semester I will be considered homeless. I will be left out without a home, a structure. This is the time where creativity takes a stand and probability conquers planning. When the sun goes out and I’m alone, I will be in the same position as many people. Laying down, trying to sleep, waiting for a new day; without even realizing with our eyes shut we say goodbye, farewell, adios, to that day forever. Again, time flies, but it flies with us. Sometimes we see it, sometimes we don’t. Time and clocks are still ticking while we steal the Earth some air. There’s always hope towards a new day, even if we are just thinking of the future. Clocks will keep ticking; they will let you know you’re dying each day. I guess the question I ask myself and I ask you are: what will you do? How can you answer that without putting in jeopardy your life? How can you make sure that you don’t make the planning for the future, your constant present? What do you think time and that clock you see right now is telling you?
I’m dying to know, please acknowledge the clock is ticking and I don’t have much time.
Painting by Salvador Dalí