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We always need to keep busy.

Our hands are restless as our thoughts, we hold on to activity as if we’re holding on to sanity. We don’t know how to let go, stand still, do nothing. And when confronted with an absence of activity, we go through withdrawal, we shiver and shake and don’t know what to do with ourselves. What are we to do with time, this constant foe? It never let’s us get everywhere we want, do all the things we’re meant to do, or so we believe.

To do. What do we do when we are alone, when there is no party, no friend to call, no lover to embrace? Do we…die? Getting to be with yourself again seems like a slow death, doesn’t it? Time is again an enemy, because it allows you so much space. The thing is, though, time never is an enemy or friend. We turn everything around just to avoid being accountable for our choices, for our actions, for who we choose to be or to be with.

Then, when time takes its course, it’s so ever easy to blame the immaterial, the merciless gods of old and new, the body, the synchronicity that brought you to the point of facing yourself stripped of your ego and beliefs. Just everything and everyone, except the real cause.

What are we to do with ourselves, when we’ve been so involved with not being ourselves, when we didn’t give ourselves a chance to breath?

People always wait for better times, mouthing” live the moment” motto s as some sort of make belief of acting out their wishes, delaying and delaying taking charge of themselves, of their lives.

”Do you know where you’ll be in 5 years” is hugely irrelevant. No one really knows where they are now. In time or outside of it, in or out of their own skin. Not until taking a step back from all the wants and claims and just enjoy being.

 

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