Tick tick tick

It goes on. It all goes on whether you're there or not. Seconds still fly. Money is still exchanged. People still have fun. It all goes on.

Everyone is just a second in a minute, a second in an hour, a second in a day, a second in a week, a second in a month, a second in year. Everyone is a second. No wonder fish feel so small...there are so many of them. How does each second know it's relevant? If that second weren't there, there's another one before it and another after it. Time keeps going with an endless amount of seconds. An endless amount of ticks.

Every question is not answered. There is another question before it, another after. Do they all matter? Do all the seconds matter? Who sits and watches the time go by, who notices the difference in each minute, who wishes time stood still, who lets it fly by? That second that just passed and that one and that one and that one, did you notice it, did you appreciate it?

Time is always there, always in front of you, but no one sits there and appreciates all that makes it up. Even the man who puts together a watch, after a while it's just putting wheels together and making sure the hands tick perfectly, but not the appreciation of the seconds individually. Not the seconds on the watch, not the seconds on the clock, not the seconds of that man's life - they all become insignificant. They all become time. And time always goes on.

He got that phone call.

I didn't.

xoxo DannDann