Monday, January 27, 2014

Sometimes, I am moving in quicksand, and it is exhausting and makes me anxious. At others, I am in a blur of fast-motion consciousness streams, and everything around me is speeding past on shiny red bicycles that I cannot ride.

Today, I am in between. I am middle-of-the-road with my deep breaths and thickened thoughts and expectant hesitancy. Floating around in a perpetual thought bubble without any nearby tree branches to run into and spill me free.

"Race against time" is an odd way to put it because we don't change Time. We can ignore it for instant victory, because it only has the meaning that we give to it. Or, we can adhere to its ways, and it will win every time with its cyclical years and months and weeks and hours and minutes and seconds and such.

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