Time is an odd thing.
Time can move so slowly, you’d swear it stands still, yet it can fly by at a hazardous speed, leaving you blinking confused, wondering what just happened.
Logic tells us that time moves forward, it never stops, yet some cultures claim that time is a wheel, the wheel of time… In a film, they said that time moved in waves, and perhaps that is true, because it certainly doesn’t seem to move at the same speed all the time. (No pun intended)
When you read an assigned book for school, you’d swear you’ve been at it for hours without reading more than a chapter, yet your clock will beg to differ, and when you read a good book, one of those books that suck you into their world, you can get lost for hours and afterwards swear it’s only been minutes.
When you are grieving, you feel like time around you have stopped. The world should slow down and give you time to make sense of what just happened, because nothing makes sense any more, and things that used to be your main concern no longer matters. But despite the fact that time in your little bubble stands still, the world keeps moving, ant to them, everything is the same. You feel like something big should have changed, people shouldn’t be acting the same, gravity should shift, and the earth should start spinning the other way instead. Why can’t the rest of the world understand that to you, nothing will ever be exactly the same again? How can they just keep on going like nothing has happened?
Whoever said that time is constantly moving at the same speed didn’t understand time. It doesn’t, and I believe time is different to all of us. Why, is it not so, that a situation, a smell, a song, a place, or even a person can plunge you back in time to a memory you thought you had lost? Be it a good one or a bad one. So how can time be constant?