Oh Time, you are a thief. You take, you devour. My minutes, my hours…they slip through my fingers like grains of sand. I grasp at the Past. But the closer that I keep it, the more that it slips away. The Present is a fleeting illusion that laughs at my attempts to hold on to it. The Future taunts me, it whispers lies and truths, I often can’t distinguish between the two. My advice? Well my advice to you would be to make Time your friend. Don’t make Time your enemy… no don’t make Time your enemy.


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