10:15
Sunday, May. 06, 2012 at 6:29 a.m.

g'morn d,

thirteen hours ago I finished up a dreadfully long day of work. A word to the unwise, if a colleague or co-worker says to you "it's only ten fifteen", steel yourself. You are about to have what will feel like the longest work day in the history of working days.

twice I've had this dream and twice it has come true. A waking nightmare where time doesn't adhere to it's own rules and regulations. During the course of my Saturday, a minute was most assuredly much longer than sixty seconds, the hours stretched out painfully more than sixty minutes each and the day though factually only eight hours long was closer to fourteen.

then time being what it is, inconsistent at best, swung it's heavy self in the opposite direction. The remaining hours of consciousness careened by almost without effort. A long stint of personal waste management though near twenty minutes, felt like five. Then a lethargic attempt at tennis shortened one and one half hours into forty-five minutes. Followed this with a pick up slash drop off of some seemingly necessary child's belonging, a food excursion, a session of tanning by the light of the silvery monitor screen, and finally a short lived glancing at sheets of paper with incomprehensible words that would have, with clear presence of mind that is, been a pretty good tale, brought me to the end of a short eve.

the poet/writer George Murray in his new book of poems Whiteout writes “Time doesn't slip away like random traffic/ accelerating from a red light, it piles up, like cars in a highway accident.” I can agree with this assessment if we're looking back at life from a single point and figuring out just how we ended up here. However, I'm thinking on a daily basis, time definitely has the double aspect to be a slow moving traffic jam of the mind where it doesn't appear to have the ability to get out of it's own way. Then in a moments passing can break free of it's tethers and run rampant for miles on end, traveling faster than we can possibly fathom.

a word d, for the unwise. A minute is a minute, an hour an hour. That is of course until you start living these minutes and hours solely in your own mindfulness and someone cruelly tells you "it's only ten fifteen ante meridiem".

maranatha friends

last - next

10:15 - Sunday, May. 06, 2012
light into darkness - Wednesday, May. 02, 2012
some introspection - Wednesday, Apr. 11, 2012
more than a want - Friday, Apr. 06, 2012
the morrow holds promise - Tuesday, Apr. 03, 2012