Who understands the ticking
of the clock so well? I do not think I do. Although it runs constantly as it
seems–to those who know little and care less about it–yet we don’t really get
the same speed every time. It flies and then it lazes around. When time runs,
it rushes your fences. It worries me so much what the future might become. And
when it slows down, it bores me to death. I raced against it yesterday. I’m
waiting like forever today. Then I’ll have it speak for itself tomorrow. Sometimes it is easy to
get by with time. At times it is out-and-out the irony. A second or a minute or
an hour–it is just the evolution of time, but it concerns me when it passes by.
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