I was reminded once again how precious we place our history and how firmly we foot ourselves on the pile of what has passed before us. How we use it to build and define our castles and make walls that protect us from neighbour but also those who never encountered such ideas before. How we often lift those who did the opposite, who walked from the sand pile and invested the seconds rather than watch them trickle through, and yet make our starring feel more worthwhile by lifting them up while we stare all the same.
Time ticks it's lonely unceasing hand across the clock face and drags me from the page and to bed.Iit's journey unending and task as monotonous as they get, and yet it is a task we set it, we placed the mechanism on the wall and supplied it's power, and we regain control, even to let the control go, and to follow a different drum beat, a different tick, tick, tick, tick, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock....