MissTick
Thingish Things

I neglected this place again. I found the longer the breaks are, the less I wish to share. There were times I used to think I’ve got it all in me, concealed deeply under the skin, all the emotions, passions, and enthusiasms. That in the right moment and when needed it’d break out and fill the moment with the richness of being alive. There were times when I could look into myself and see the secret volcanic activity brewing while on a surface I am being calm and cool. There were times when on a whip of a moment I could release some of that energy and do something outrageous just for the sake of riding the moment to the fullest. I used to grab a chance whenever I saw it. Was it good? I don’t know. It certainly felt great, felt “mighty”, felt “alive”. I look for a passion now and cannot find any. I strike a match and find nothing is there to set on fire. An almost physical sensation that I can slip my hand in and all it will grope for will be emptiness. Not that it bothers me in particular. Just leaves slightly at loss: I’ve being diligently crawling out of the void for what exactly? Perhaps, if I’d feel hatred, repulsion or arrogance instead of indifference, I could’ve be more alive. But for now not only I am being somewhat dimmed, but also somewhat empty. Interesting how I thought, once I’ll get over the pain, life will be starting again. Now the pain is gone and life becomes an existence. I suppose this is normal and experienced by many in a similar situation. Just another stage of recovery, perhaps. A dead end of some sort…

I have come to the conclusion that we always have time. If we want, if we truly want, we can find time to indulge that want. I found this is true for me. No matter how busy I might be, but once the mind’s set for something it finds worthy, I can spread apart the folds and slip the extra minute or two in between the timeless sheets of my tasks. I do this all the time and never had a task failed because of little stretch of allocated time. I believe that time is flexible and not limited to the hours in a day, but only to the strength of our wish to have as much time as we want to do as much as we want. If you don’t mind, don’t care, not interested in having a spare moment to do what you wish to do, that only means the genuine wish is not there. Works both ways. If someone do not do something they might’ve otherwise, the reason is never a lack of time, but a lack of desire. Might sounds like a harsh judgement, but if you think of it – most of that what we give to the others, in reality is just a piece of our own time. So when we don’t find it possible to give, we just selfishly leave all our time to ourselves.