Dear Time: Stop

When I was younger I remembered everything and noticed everything. My brain was 73% less full because I was 73% less aware of the world, 73% less full of Worry. With so much free hardware, I would obsess over sentences and thoughts and run home and write them down. Now they shoot through my head like text messages that get marked READ and disappear before you get a chance to really read them.

Case in point: Earlier today I was thinking something that felt profound, that old feeling, I should really write this down. It was somehow related to how that Shania Twain song Cupid made me feel like in high school and also related this article I read last night about a flood at ravaged Cinque Terre in Italy which made me sad because I was there 8 years ago, and that’s just too long ago, and I don’t know when I’ll get to go there again, and I should go places! I should do things! and how, now that I’ve managed to cobble together some stability,  I sometimes kind of ache to run away or live in my parent’s basement, off my Mom’s tuna salad and under towels she throws on me fresh out of the dryer, and how there’s not enough time for anything, and how I should really make a list of all the things I’d like to do so that I make sure I do them, like languages to learn and places to go and things to know more about, but then I got home and did all of the things I had to do, and now I can’t remember what I was going to say, or the point of it, other than just: Time. And so, insert profound thought about Time.

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