our stories are shaped more by the passing of time than by the events
we don’t have enough yet we prioritize things we don’t want to do
how we spend our time is the only thing we have full control over
in time, we always forget about things that were once valuable
it’s not all at once so we barely notice as our time slips away
one thing about time: it allows us to forget what used to matter
life’s not short on time we’re short on the life that we put into our time
it’s so specific yet vague; is it next Monday? or has it happened?
how we pass our time is the one way to measure what is important
the passing of time leaves an honest patina we try to erase
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