Wr1tt3n0ne

Bunches and bunches
2017-10-18 23:51:02 (UTC)

Untimely

One word sort of sums up my personal feelings on so much of what is happening today, either out in the world at large or in my very own personal life. As someone who fancies herself close to time, perhaps even maddeningly aware of it, all of the moments that define me have been...
untimely.

Admittedly, tragedy cares not for timeliness, nor does happenstance. And happiness seeks to find a time to be, always. And then there is me. Forever knowing it is not the right time and pushing ahead anyways. Yet, even my hesitancy is perfectly on time, expected as my voice is to those I am closest to. So much so that some answer my phone calls, in the time before caller ID, with my name. Even with cell phones, many of my friends don't look and still know it is me, be it out of the blue, or hopelessly overdue, they know my timing is perfect. And being me, I know I am expected and I do not disappoint. It hits me as a feeling of being in the right space at the very right time. My fingers peck away numbers that shouldn't still work and connect with strangers left to give me the crumbs I need to find my desired contacts.

The entirety of my life has been such. The worst time and place are changed by my presence into the right time and place, the only time and place. I feel constantly made naive by the mechanisms of the universe sliding into gear around me. As much as my friends and loved ones, find me suddenly, so too, do I find myself saying hello again. Overall it feels inevitable. It most certainly is not, but sometimes, the timing made too perfect and I feel obscene declaring it happenstance or even serendipity, because the real term is Fate. Not because it is truly inevitable nor fated, but because it feels so, it moves so and that seems undeniable.

In Time, all things come to pass.

It is a mantra I find comforting in my darker moments. It pushes me to grasp opportunities, to run after chance and make luck of it. Strangely, it both spurs me to action and stills me. I love it as a petulant child loves a parent, as well as a lover well met. For Time and myself, it is all love and hate, and every shade between.

Perhaps Eve 6 had it right, "...The tick-tock of the clock is painful, all sane and logical.
I want to tear it off the wall." Well, time enough for rage at mortality and sanity. Wry smile, weary smile but genuine mirth, oh see how her eyes dance in the fleeting seconds made past.





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