I’m 39 years old, man.
Time starts to seem strange at 39.
You realize that every day matters.
It’s finite.
Not in a bad way though.
I’m glad I’ve acknowledged time at 39 years old.
I see these writers who consider themselves “enlightened” because they see the “illusion of time”. I used to think that way, “the power of now” and all that.
But the reality is that there are places I’ve been, and places I’m going, and that indicates time.
The body I am in has gotten old. My body has traveled too.
Time is a character on my journey.
A character is an illusion. But, still, time is a valid character, not to be dismissed.
So what do you do with a character that is both real, and insignificant in the grand scheme of things? ‘Because “the grand scheme of things” is a very objective statement. People say that. They say, “In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter” while talking about themselves or their purpose. But that statement supposes a God who is counting the scheme. If your universe dies with you, then time not only mattered, it was all that was real.
