Time

[Visinedrops]

Thought I'd share this, but didn't know where else to put it.

Time.

Time. The only thing that stands against us, while standing beside us. In our turmoils of daily life, it is time that is the only constant. Time to begin again, time to forget, time to remember, and time to stop. It is this time we give, and get, from morning till night, doing what it is that we do for no other reason than our own.


Time stands between friendships, time stands beside lovers. Time is the emotion we fall back on in memory, and time is what we look forward to in our dreams. We live in time, and because of it, we fail to notice it. Our time has come, their time has passed.


We wake each morning with a glimpse of hope in our eyes, which slowly diminishes throughout the day, finally to retire to bed having accomplished nothing more than what we credit ourselves. Time ends, to begin again on the next morning of our waking.


Find time. Find a way to remember what time has given you, and what it has allowed you to become, for time has never been so harsh as it will be in the future. Allow time to stop you in your tracks, and force you to ignore it if only briefly. A gaze into the distance, a longing for, or a tear.


All we have is time, and it is time that has given us what we have.

[iceman]

very nice

very nice, more people should read that

[cadens_rock]

Here's one of my favorites.
Time
(Mason, Waters, Wright, Gilmour) 7:06

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.

So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I'd something more to say.