The only currency that people actually possess is time. Time, in the sense of our own, personal time we have to spend on the Planet. So it becomes of crucial importance whom and what do we spend our time on.
There is no refund for the time spent. There is no contract offered to loan more time in case ours becomes limited. And there is no guarantee that we won’t run out of time at any given point in our lives.
So, don’t tell me the time I spent on you and you spent on me has no value. It’s like investing all your money in building a house and then leaving it empty, leaving it to time to rot and destroy. It’s not even like renting it or leaving it to the homeless people to live in. It’s like absolutely wasting it, locking it, nailing the windows with wood and leaving it to decay.
The question of time always evokes questions about waste. So there are at least two stimuli in a person’s life – making good choices about time and avoid time waste. All else is a subject to negotiation. But time never is.
Source – Pinterest. Artist unknown.
The morning light was yet demanding. There was a taste
in my mouth of something long gone. I did not know how
the story was supposed to go from now on, but the
morning light was demanding action. I really wanted to
refuse the world in those empty mornings but that was not
a way to be.
What amazed me was that nothing really mattered
anymore – failure or success, not even love. It had become
almost shameful to still be capable to love and fall in love in
those ugly days.
There is terrible ugliness in the world, but there is also
sublime beauty. Bottom line is, at least the world is
knowable. Sooner or later, closer to the hearth or at the end
of the earth, the world gets to everyone.
It’s truly a stasis.
Hold big thoughts and spend them on nothing.
The doors are closing now, run to the window.
I will await down to catch your spilled feelings.
Comfort is the feature of the closed mind.
A voice it is, they say.
It is not even a whisper anymore, if you ask me.
My mind is gambling with `yes` and `no`.
Oh, what a performance of doubt.
Simply, there are people who are worthy to suffer for. But don’t take the short cut, never take the short cut.
There’s where the story stays.
A water that shares too many seas. A sea that shares too many shores.
How many times I’ll have to break myself before my pieces are all gone…You should make up your mind now, because my attitude towards your indecision will end up in an unpleasant way. My words stay silent sometimes, my pen, though, won’t spare you what you deserve. What troubles you you deal with by noon and then you are ready to mess it all up again. Fast and firm. All this is getting tense but it’s not starting to make sense
I’d probably prefer the little loveless at the end. Never mind all the troubles that he caused.
Sometimes in a far-away land,
we encounter close-to-us people.
Sometimes in them,
we find out needed freedom.