Erratic Scribbles

It’s been a while.

Time is a fickle minded thing from our perspective. As far as my memory can recall, it would race without stop and a day would seem to go past like water through my fingers. At other spans, an hour would seem never ending.

Was it just our perspective or was it time itself? Was it both? Questions that never seemed to have definite answers and heavens forbid if I try to tackle them right now; but time is wonderful. It seems so long ago that I’d sit down with my cousins and friends to discuss philosophy of space and the wonders of our world; it’s reality.

Even as we enter the second month of another year, few of us still seem to have made peace with the pace at which we walk in life. I remember myself few years ago, anxious, unable to understand my faults, my failures daunting me and people pointing at the wrong directions with disgust painted on their faces. At least that’s how I saw it; from my perspective.   It’s been long since then but it also feels like yesterday. I know quite a few of us think we’re walking too slowly but very few seem to bother looking around, which is essential if you ever want to pick up pace. I mean, who would like to run with their eyes closed?
I sort-of made peace with time a few years back. It feels like yesterday, but not quite. Unable to go on, I just gave up. Not in the sense where I wanted to just end everything, which honestly was an option, but rather in the way that I just stopped fighting with time. It felt liberating in a way to just tell myself that i’d do something regardless of however long it would take me, but i would give myself fully to what I start doing. And I started doing things that I actually wanted to. Because just like everyone else, I had the choice to take the jump, however, unlike everyone else, I was stupid enough to actually do it.


Feels surreal. Because even though it felt like chaos back then, today it just feels like a calm memory, like a painting, unable to move.

A lot of decisions were taken over time, some turned out well while others just seem like wasted effort that should’ve been put to use somewhere else. Maybe it is our perspective that guides time, or maybe it’s the reality in which we live that determines how time feels to us. At times, a moment of happiness seems like eternity, never forgotten; while at others, a pulse of melancholy slowly guts them in broad daylight.

Maybe overtime we’ll all learn to empathize better. Maybe our broken lives will seem to make sense in the future. Perhaps the life we wanted will turn out that way if only we begin to put effort in the right direction at any time. Perchance time is just a barrier we keep in front of us without even realizing it. Or chances are that it is crucial to getting anything done in the first place.

We all seem to be stuck in a perpetual state of self consciousness. Trying to understand where we are at life, trying to make sense of where we have to go. And it never feels like it’s ever getting over but suddenly, after the entire day is done, after you celebrate your birthday, after anything significant, you stop and realize; that it’s been a while.