Letters to Love, Time and Death

Dear Time

Dear Time,

If I'm being honest, I'm afraid everytime I think of you. I know, you aren't infinte. And that's what scares me. Everytime I'm in my philosophical mode and I watch other people living their life, I always imagine what it would be like to be in their age. Like, be in the thirties, the forties or even the fifties. And everytime I imagine, I wonder what they're thinking about you, Time. Do they fear you? Do they use you? Do they need more of you?

And then I remember a quote, it goes like "Who has no time is poorer than the poorest beggar". It's kind of a demand, a challenge, to live your life properly, to enjoy every moment and to do all the things you always wanted to ... It sounds so easy. But unfortunately it isn't. In modern times, you need money and possibilities to do the things you love, well, most of the things. That's another matter. Most of the people forget the little things in life, like lying on the grass, listening to the sound of nature, meeting their friends and chattering. For sure it is better than a couple of years ago, when people had to ... I don't know, well, a couple of hundred years ago, when people hadn't that much time to enjoy their life and died in their forties because of diseases or something like that. Anyway, I think it is hard to spend you the right way. Often the ones who have the smallest amount of you are the ones using you the best possible way. Because they realize that you are finite, they realize that at some point of the future, you will be gone. That's when it starts to get difficult.

Time, I think everyone knows that you're good friends with Death, and I don't wanna blame you, but everytime you two work together, something bad happens. And that's the point. Remember when I mentioned something about a few people who don't have much of you? Yeah right, those are the ones suffering from you and your playmate. It's kind of ironic that those people don't mind and just enjoy every single moment, while everyone else is going crazy and hates you and begs you for more of you. It's not that I don't understand or support these people's opinion, I'm just more interested in the wisdom of those, partly damn young, one's that are contented with the amount of ... you know ... time you give them. They are carefree and light-hearted, just because someone told them how much of you are left for them. Isn't that funny? Only because they are given a concrete deadline, literally.

I can talk and write and philosophize endless about you, Time. But to be honest (again)? I don't think I am using you appropriate, too. I mean, I'm writing about enjoying every single moment, but I don't really act like that.

So here's the deal. As a new year will begin in just a couple of days, I have got a new good intent: I will try to enjoy things more than till now. I will try to look closer regarding the little things in life. I will try not to fear you, but to get to know you a bit more, for a better usage of you. Time, I hope we will become good friends.

Greetings

Melina