I’m stuck in an eternal feud with time itself


A metal representation of the concept that controls my life.

The hands on the clock never seem to move, yet the days are flying out of my grasp. 

Looking over at the clock on my Amazon Echo Show, the black hole-esque background stands still along with the time. The gold orb representing the hour is always the same. The silver minute orb inches by at the speed of molasses in February. Somehow, the minuscule sky-blue orb speeds away with the seconds. That’s the only thing that does. Even the digitalized time acts as if it is a part of the nebula in the background.

I feel as if I am the still camera taking a time-lapse in New York City.

I’m waiting for the moment that someone grabs me by the hand and pulls me into the crowd. I want to be pulled into the moment. I need to see the time move by—not in the way I’m seeing it now.

I want to experience the time. 

I need to experience the time.

I give myself so many goals, so many expectations. Almost unthinkable goals, but I still try. I get good grades so I can go to college. I save my money so I’ll have money to move out and see the world. I scroll through TikTok seeing all the people in New York City drinking coffee in front of the brownstones where they live. That’s what I want with my life. Maybe I could achieve it if time was ever on my side.

How can I be fighting with an idea, with a concept?”

I get ready to set plans in motion but the time doesn’t move quickly enough. Then, the second I slow down, it picks up again. It’s a constant push and pull, with the time always winning. No matter how much I fight it, the time always wins. 

How can I be fighting with an idea, with a concept? Why can’t I just create my own concept? If time was meant to help us, then why am I fighting it tooth and nail?

If time and I came to an agreement, then I could do all I wanted. But time is much bigger than just agreeing to not throw my Echo Show out a window. Time dates back centuries, time will go on for centuries. Everything in my world is debated on by time. It determines when I can drive, when I can go to college, when I can move out, even just when I have to do something. 

No matter how much I write, think, or say, time will move in the way it always has: slow and quick. So for now, I’ll retreat back into the center of the sidewalk to continue my time-lapse of New York City.