The Sun Sets Quicker Into the West These Days Yet The Sun Still Gets Up at the Same God &@*^ Time!
I have noticed these past couple days (as we all must have at some point in our lives) that time goes by faster than it did before when I was a child. The months, weeks, days, hell even minutes fly by, and often there are times when I can’t recall what the date is, or discern what happened the day before. It used to be, when this clouded patch misted my memory banks, it was because I had a late night of binge drinking, but now I seem to allow myself whole blanks of time to be erased without knowing what happened because everyday is pretty much the same. Dull, repetitive, and laborious over and over again are my days so frequent that they seem to just meld together. I am not as zany as I used to be, nor as compulsive. Don’t get me wrong, I can still swing that crazy stick with precision of a professional, but now-a-days I feel more compelled to yell at neighboring kids who are skinny-dipping in the pool than I am compelled to join right in. What happened to me? When did I lose that part of myself?
“Hey let’s go throw rocks at old people!”
“Nah—that requires to much energy…”
Why were things so much slower for us when we were children? I have been giving it some thought lately. I think I have come up with the answer. Today, we as adults live in a fast paced, never slowing for breakfast or rock throwing, dog-eat-dog pace. And in our laborious attempts to pursue that almighty dollar, we seem to lose track of time. Quite simply, we never have any time because we are always being pursued by it. And because we don’t have any time/are being pursued by it, time flies by us like it is late for work on Monday morning. Let me explain, everyday, as we get older, we too soon take on the responsibility of finding work and sticking to it. We work everyday in order to make money. Money to buy the material things we need and don’t need. Money buys us both the luxuries of life like a car (in order to get to work to make more money) and luxuries of life like a family. Money supports this vicious cycle of ever needing more. I get a job to buy a car, so that I may drive to work. I get a job in order to gain a financial stature to meet a woman, when I meet a woman I have to buy a phone so I can call her, need more money. Now let’s say that I start a family, need more money, need a better job to support that family, need diapers need house, need mini-van, need television for babysitter, need, need, need, need… all requires money and job. This is stuff we all want right? Eventually? Okay, well there are other examples of the money/responsibility cycle that we can imagine. The stuff our dad’s have been telling us about for years. It never ends, and now I am at that age where the cycle cannot be stopped, unless I totally exclude myself from society.
What does this have to do with children and the slow passage of time? Just about everything. And it all stems from one worn, one feeling, and that is the word “anticipation.” When we were kids, everyday was a new day; everyday was a new learning experience. When I awoke, I never knew what I could expect to occur. It was like Christmas morning everyday. Every minute was filled with newness. This is why time was slow, because every minute, though sometimes it was dreadful, was anticipated upon. As adults, we know far too much of what to expect as we get up in the morning. Some of us have been doing it for over 24 years now. It is the same ole same ole, and it won’t get any better as time progresses. Depressing isn’t it. It is to me. I just know that I can expect that by this time when I am 48, time will probably progress doubly so, just as it has from the time when I was 12. Sure, I have not learned all there is in the world as of yet. Yet. And there will be many still new learning experiences for me to live through, but sure as hell as time altogether passes way too fast for me now, by then it will surely pass by even faster. I have yet to even find a real job. God isn’t that a scary thought? Some have said that “it can only get better,” but I say that isn’t the case unless “better” means being “one-step closer to my grave kind-of better.” At least then I could finally get some rest without being disturbed.
I meant only for this blog to be one line long, and now look at it. It is several paragraphs long. I flet that it had further explanations needed. I am tired of sharing for now, but before I go, I will leave you with the original line of this text, the line that started this diatribe. The one thing I didn’t retain from my childhood was ability to make time seem slow.
Peace out peoples,
sib
“Hey let’s go throw rocks at old people!”
“Nah—that requires to much energy…”
Why were things so much slower for us when we were children? I have been giving it some thought lately. I think I have come up with the answer. Today, we as adults live in a fast paced, never slowing for breakfast or rock throwing, dog-eat-dog pace. And in our laborious attempts to pursue that almighty dollar, we seem to lose track of time. Quite simply, we never have any time because we are always being pursued by it. And because we don’t have any time/are being pursued by it, time flies by us like it is late for work on Monday morning. Let me explain, everyday, as we get older, we too soon take on the responsibility of finding work and sticking to it. We work everyday in order to make money. Money to buy the material things we need and don’t need. Money buys us both the luxuries of life like a car (in order to get to work to make more money) and luxuries of life like a family. Money supports this vicious cycle of ever needing more. I get a job to buy a car, so that I may drive to work. I get a job in order to gain a financial stature to meet a woman, when I meet a woman I have to buy a phone so I can call her, need more money. Now let’s say that I start a family, need more money, need a better job to support that family, need diapers need house, need mini-van, need television for babysitter, need, need, need, need… all requires money and job. This is stuff we all want right? Eventually? Okay, well there are other examples of the money/responsibility cycle that we can imagine. The stuff our dad’s have been telling us about for years. It never ends, and now I am at that age where the cycle cannot be stopped, unless I totally exclude myself from society.
What does this have to do with children and the slow passage of time? Just about everything. And it all stems from one worn, one feeling, and that is the word “anticipation.” When we were kids, everyday was a new day; everyday was a new learning experience. When I awoke, I never knew what I could expect to occur. It was like Christmas morning everyday. Every minute was filled with newness. This is why time was slow, because every minute, though sometimes it was dreadful, was anticipated upon. As adults, we know far too much of what to expect as we get up in the morning. Some of us have been doing it for over 24 years now. It is the same ole same ole, and it won’t get any better as time progresses. Depressing isn’t it. It is to me. I just know that I can expect that by this time when I am 48, time will probably progress doubly so, just as it has from the time when I was 12. Sure, I have not learned all there is in the world as of yet. Yet. And there will be many still new learning experiences for me to live through, but sure as hell as time altogether passes way too fast for me now, by then it will surely pass by even faster. I have yet to even find a real job. God isn’t that a scary thought? Some have said that “it can only get better,” but I say that isn’t the case unless “better” means being “one-step closer to my grave kind-of better.” At least then I could finally get some rest without being disturbed.
I meant only for this blog to be one line long, and now look at it. It is several paragraphs long. I flet that it had further explanations needed. I am tired of sharing for now, but before I go, I will leave you with the original line of this text, the line that started this diatribe. The one thing I didn’t retain from my childhood was ability to make time seem slow.
Peace out peoples,
sib
the Omnipotent... Everybody loves SuperInsignificantBoy wrote this at 12:00 AM
2 Feedback:
So fuckin' true.
You rock.
...not to mention when you're young time takes up more... time. If that makes sense. When you've only lived for 3 years, one year is a third of your lifetime. When you're 24, a year is 1/24 of your life time. A year is much smaller. This makes a month much smaller, as you've lived for 288 of them instead of 36 of them. That makes weeks smaller, which makes days smaller... hours... minutes... you get the idea.
I hate it too. It sucks.
P.S. I totally cheated and used the "calculator" from the "accessories" menu.
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