Time

Time is in everything. It encapsulates space and completes fates constraints where four seconds earlier or four months later may mean a totally different path of destiny. And dont we wish it had been different! It presides over the doings and the undone with precise irresponsibility. For it never bears one, it just casts its causes and effects upon ourselves to carry for months, years or a lifetime until we are able to heal its irregularities. If we can.

And when we rebel against it, when we dont accept its misfits unto our serenity, when we fight with hope, patience and faith to change those pointers of a clock our way, we still might end up hurt during the process. While it, it never feels contrite.

Time with you has a different dimension, he said to me once. And I didnt understand what he meant back then. For I have loved and hated this notion with the same intensity, every time my car speeded up like a Ferrari to meet him and slowed down like an old carriage after dropping him off to a station. I have strived all my live to cheat on time, disregard it, disrespect it, shrink it and expand it to the expanse of my beliefs that freedom and feelings must interlace unscathed in harmony, without any constriction of time, timings, minutes or other extensions subdued to it. Many times I failed, other times it failed me. And most times my mind wouldnt give up without a fight against its volatile negligence. At least if I fell or hit the wall of hardships, I knew that those bruises were my cause for an outcome worthy of the cause.
They say it takes seven years to change the cells of your body and to get a new one. They also say that seven years of presence in somebodys life is a guaranteed sign of permanence. I guess when they change bodies together with you and they’ve seen all of your atoms, they might as well stay. But time should not define so easily over the frames of fitting. For it’s not the skin-change that matters, it’s what lies beneath. And sometimes one second is enough to know that one mole on a persons hand or a smile right after a kiss will stay for ages, over time and reminiscences.
We have a history, time and me. And I want to believe that its not it writing me, but me writing it. Full of nows, cleaned of nos, spiced with alacrity and dominated by passion in tune with the persistent hope that time itself exists mainly for joys to be lived. I dont want it to linger in the corners of woes and disappointments. I dont relinquish my space in its extent for negative thoughts and intents. In time, weve grown together the habit of coping with one another so that it persists in the shapes I give it when I think of it with intensity, adding fillers of smiles, caring thoughts, and keeping abreast my trust despite its odds.
I am not sure if I have fooled time or it fooled me by making me think I would win in front of it. But there is one thing I am sure of: every time it comes around with its ground rules to challenge me, I give it my best to use it fully so that I make out of those coincidences happenstances and that I can show him, afar or nearby, that he is appreciated.
And who knows, maybe I do fool itor as he says, I make a different dimension out of it.

(Soar, soaring-words.com, Picture credits: emp-online.com and Warner Bros. Entertainment, HP Publishing Rights)
#soar,#soaringwords, #time, #hope, #respect, #appreciation, #trust, #care.

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