Time's Only Post

Time, time, time. I will only dedicate one post to you. Only one. And here it is:

As large-brained, opposable-thumbed, up-right walking mammals we naturally have quite the curiosity, and since the moment we came into existence Time has been one of the largest probers of our curiosities. Time is consistent. It passes no more quickly today than it did 10 million yesterdays ago. It never feels different. It doesn't stretch or bend (unless perhaps you consult certain scientists, but I will leave such ponderings to sharper minds). Naturally we have told stories and written songs and made movies about it. In fact, one of my favorites by John (if you can believe I have a favorite) pleads with an all-powerful conductor to "stop this train", because you see, he wants "to get off and go home again". I can relate, perhaps now especially, considering my train has taken me away from home.

Though I know time can't be passing faster now than it was when I was 10 (playing the prince once again for my forever-princess blond haired, blue-eyed sister) I would swear my life that as soon as I turned 16 it sped up exponentially. This belief reveals a terrible weakness in my way of living. There are some days, most notably those of some consequence (holiday, birthday, and so on) when I wake up knowing it will end soon. All day I carry around that knowledge, and it tends to drain color out of all aspects of the scenery. Usually I am a person who likes to add color, so when I see myself having this affect on myself and the life around me, it makes me want to slap myself around a bit. Or slap Time around a bit. And this is what I have decided.

Time is a culprit, but we give him that power. By thinking about him, singing about him, trying to stop him. My best days occur when I have no concept of time. Chronology is not needed to tell the stories of those days. The happenings, smiles, and colors that filled them creates the story and wraps it in a gorgeously glittering present. Time is going to pass. It is inevitable. It is common and ugly knowledge that has no place in our lives. So let us throw it out. BanishT it. And thus we strip all power from Time and return it to its rightful owner, Life.

"Don't stop this train, don't for a minute change the place you're in."

A Note on Music Part II

Music is my first love for so many reasons. One of the most prominent, however, is probably because it helps me write. It can be difficult to unroll these feelings into simple black and white and text. When sitting in a quiet room they often are too raw. Emotions won't readily form themselves into words because they are not fluid enough. Comfort is found in my heart and mind, they know they are safe in those locations, and don't want to leave.

Music liquefies them.

It is a bit Pied Piper-esque really, but with a bit more voluntary behavior. These thoughts and ideas that were once so afraid to leave the place in which they were conceived melt a little. Swirl around together, become a shining stream of words that can smoothly flow onto the screen. Even in those moments I feel least inclined to write a particularly talented song can begin the melting, thus creating the need to release the now fluid sentiments. Such instances are truly cherished, including this one. Tonight's song culprit is "I Won't" by Colbie Caillat.