Breathing Time

It's been ages since I last wrote something. I will be writing about my all time favorite excuse.

Time.

When you come to think of it,time really has nothing to do with it. You have it, we have it all the time. It's how we choose to use it that differs every single opportunity from the other, thus, comes free will. Cliche.

Time may be the most sensitive and complex subject all throughout history, (except for Harry Potter, of course). It's everywhere. We do time. We breathe time. We write about time (tada!).

But do we really know how important time is for us?

Do we see it as a mother hurrying for work, sending his son to school on her way?

Or in the eyes of a dying CEO, seconds from death, not nearly sure where or to whom to leave his assets?

Or in the eyes of a boy, simply staring momentarily at the setting sun, waiting for it to kiss the horizon, alternately lingering on its beauty and the sad fact that he lost his one true love last summer with the same scene, with also a dying sun?

Time indeed, like love, brings us to great heights of emotions and situations we never dreamed of or even fathomed.

But, if it is such a powerful and undeniable factor in life, why does it seem like people, more often than not, take it for granted? When a lot of people seem to suffer for the loss of it?

Quality time.

Quality time doesn't have to be tangibly productive. I believe quality time is when you spend it doing what your heart beats for. Anyway, "quality" is meant to be subjective.

Having quality time wouldn't have to be mirrored through a career woman working her ass off for a son with the abscence of a mother. Time should be spent with love. Our hearts should be the one fueling the hands of time, that every tick of a second would be fulled by love, not emptied by regret.

Indeed, quality time can exist during an actionless gazing of the setting sun.