*Warning! Adult language.

~

A foot was slammed on the brake of an ever-accelerating world.

Lockdown played tricks with time, shapeshifting it into something almost unrecognisable to our global cult of efficiency.

For some, myself included, this enforced period of reflection created scope to balance our internal books. What were the profits and losses of an audit of one’s soul? And was the efficacy of modern urban life? Specifically, my modern, urban life, that felt broken, like really broken?

As days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, a mantra flowed…

What you are not changing, you are choosing.
What you are not changing, you are choosing.
What you are not changing, you are choosing.

Now we were getting somewhere.

Alignment.

Inhale. Exhale.

Na-fuckin’-maste, bitches.

Congruence with core values.

Moving in flow toward something more.

But what was widening this gap? And what was bridging it?

What do I bring with me? And what do I leave behind?

I arrive at a large metaphorical fork in the road: to go left, or to go right? Right, as once was. Left, to adventure into something other.

And so, the dice spins, and I land on arguably the most arbitrary of human inventions—time.

~

Wild Thing.

Please,

don’t waste my fucking time.

Because time, 

once lost, 

is not something that can be recovered.

Because time, 

a nonrenewable resource, 

commands heads to bow in reverence.

Time will not offer consideration to the unlived dreams, 

collecting dust on the mantelpiece. 

It will not barter in the marketplace.

It is apathetic in the company of pleading negotiations. 

Time’s hips will always sway boldly to the pulse

 of…

 its…

 own…

 tempo.

Time is not interested in the pursuit of popularity,

nor is it burdened by your desire, 

or your disdain for it.

Time, 

my friend, 

is nonplussed by your assessment of it.

Time’s heart does not weigh heavy by your lack of moral coding. 

It sets sail regardless, 

A skipper, nonchalant to faces of good, 

or of evil.

If you are wise in the company of time,

you will be respectful of its consistency,

and mindful,

as to its familiar presence breeding indifference.

Time has seen all that was.

Time will see all that is yet to pass.

And so,

once again, 

I ask, 

please,

don’t waste my fucking time.

~