When time is a human construct, how do you truely measure anything?
Can you measure it in lifespan, or is that, too, just a compilation of tiny moments. Touches, looks, adventures, aimless wandering and arm holding. We can measure in eye flickers, measure in blocks. Why wait for anything, when at any moment, life could be over?
Carpe Dium, todos los dias de mi vida. I can only hope I never forget and let that slip away. Forward, forward, forward, and never look behind. Passion is the rope that leads you into the future. Say it!
And look at me.
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"But what does do it over mean? He didn't want to lose his soul over compromises, second chances that turned him inside-out. And, anyway, we don't depend on time finally. There is a balance, a kind of standoff between the time continuum and the human entity, our frail bundle of soma and psyche. We eventually succumb to time, it's true, but time depends on us. We carry it in our muscles and genes, pass it on to the next set of time-factoring creatures ... or how would the world keep going? Never mind the time theorist, the cesium devices that measure the life and death of the smallest silvery trillionth of a second. He thought that we were the only crucial clocks, our minds and bodies, way stations for the distribution of time." - Underworld, Don DeLillo
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