Time, and again
Today I got to thinking about time, and its relativity. So many meanings in so many different situations...
2 minutes in the metro mean a station, one less for your destination. In the bus, we’re talking about a couple hundred metres.
2 minutes at work, what it usually takes for all my e-mails to download first thing in the morning.
When in a taxi, stuck in traffic, 3 euros and a mayor piss off.
2 minutes is what it takes me to get an outfit and it’s accessories out drawers and closet (after probably 30 minutes of decision making and changes of mind – several of them-).
Time. We are tired of listening it runs too fast. Time and again. But it does, it runs like mad. And it’s precisely this fact that gives it its charm, right? The absurdity of it all. Time, and again.
2 minutes is what it took me to type this post. Quite a bit more to write it on my notebook in one of those trips by bus… or was it by metro?
2 minutes in the metro mean a station, one less for your destination. In the bus, we’re talking about a couple hundred metres.
2 minutes at work, what it usually takes for all my e-mails to download first thing in the morning.
When in a taxi, stuck in traffic, 3 euros and a mayor piss off.
2 minutes is what it takes me to get an outfit and it’s accessories out drawers and closet (after probably 30 minutes of decision making and changes of mind – several of them-).
Time. We are tired of listening it runs too fast. Time and again. But it does, it runs like mad. And it’s precisely this fact that gives it its charm, right? The absurdity of it all. Time, and again.
2 minutes is what it took me to type this post. Quite a bit more to write it on my notebook in one of those trips by bus… or was it by metro?
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