Time goes by, so slowly. Until it doesn’t. And it just speeds up, faster and faster. Faster pasta. Pasta faster.

How can 24 hours change in ways beyond their capabilities. It is not possible for time to change. Time is a constant. It is what keeps us in line, working to the clock, knowing when to stop. Knowing when to start, to arrive, how to survive.

TIme cannot change. But it does. All the time. Good days pass quickly, they say. Others are long and draining, not a bright indication of what has been and gone. But it’s not always the case.

When I watch a clock, as you know, the kettle will never boil. But sometimes you look once, then look again “ten minutes later” and half of a whole hour has gone. I want someone to explain to be how our perception can be marred by reality and what we are conscious of at the time.

And it happens to everyone. Repeatedly. Time monitoring is not something you can learn, a skill you can acquire. There are occasions when it is nice to be ‘free of’ time. Unaware, without a care. Take a dare, fight the scare.

But I’m always racing the clock and the clock wins, every time. It has the upper hand – or two. It is above and beyond me. It is so steady yet so fast, its timing in each race it enters, impeccable. Who could craft such an exacting presence in the human life. Human life isn’t supposed to be perfect. In fact, I thought all aspects of life on planet Earth were inherently (or at least meant to be), imperfect. There is a kind of reassurance in knowing that you/one/it/he/she cannot be perfect. It is an unattainable desire. A quest that cannot be won, a test not passed, a cul-de-sac, or a road that only leads to a dead end. Or maybe not quite a dead end, but one that doesn’t get you to the place you’d hoped. It leads you on, like a rabbit chasing a carrot. Hanging by your every move. Above you. Always winning.

Then there are moments you think you’re on top of it all. The clock and time itself cannot beat you. You are winning the race against time. You will finish before it strikes, you will challenge its ticks and the way its heart beats. You have deadlines but you have determination that will see you finish before the come. And maybe you do. But then you relax and time catches up with you again. Always a race, a chase, a scientific pace, foreign to the human space. It is mechanical. We are organic. Mechanics and organics do not meet peacefully. The reject one another, there is a magnetic field effect, repellent, anti-bug spray, mosquito bites, bushman creams, indigenous dreams, broken seams, sports teams, internet memes.

Clocks don’t stop, the human heart must. One gives in to lust, to love, to might, to fight, to give, to receive, to Genevieve.

How can one know what to do, how to manage, how to get through?

Ephemeral. Deceiving. State-bound. Every changing, ever stable. It can fly and it will. It can stall and be stalled. A creation of the mind yet a device so exacting and mechanical. Again. Repetition. Say it again. See it again. Do it all again.

It’s a battle that will never end. Me against the clock. And you don’t have to ponder who will win. Time.


  1. Your lines on time, illuminate fine. Your lucid view strips bare whats true.

  2. The Thing King said:

    Wow, all that ‘heady’ stuff about ‘time’ got me thinking about two good friends of mine; I’m sure you’d like meeting them although, by the looks of things in this ‘Clock’ post of yours, I think you may know them already.

    Just in case you’re not sure, allow me to introduce them formally. One of them’s called Phillip; and the other is Sophia. I think of them very much as a couple, Phil and Sophie, but you might prefer to choose between them (if you can)-

    Phil, or



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