You give back what you give away.

Time heals all wounds, but how many of these distinct unities will it take? No one knows, it’s just time. Sit back, let it do its work. Questions are more than welcome - How long? Long enough. How soon? Soon enough. Is it even relevant? There’s no mathematical exactitude when it comes to inner healing. There’s not a determined value attached to every measure. They last as long as they please - The years I spent on a routine were gone in a blink, and the second I looked into his eyes was literally eternal.

Who are we to quantify our time according to its duration? It comes then leaves, it waits and then it’s gone. That’s all I know, and that’s all I care to know. It’s not about living every second as some say, because we are living as long as we’re alive. We need open eyes. We need wisdom. We need to learn to use the right measures. Seizing the day - whatever that means to each one of us.

As redundant as it seems, what matters is its importance. A second could mean to me more than your entire lifetime does to you, so to speak. Its subjectivity makes its quantification an impossible task. Age says nothing, experience says everything. But is it less accurate than speaking about seconds and centuries? Even in our collective History, the former can be crucial while the latter can be static.

Time gives an image of a ticking sound and no turning back. I think we all feel it, implacable and unforgiving. One moment, then the next, then the next, then they’re all gone to that remote place called memory, some to get lost forever… Time gives an image of minutes, hours, weeks, months, years. Calendars, journals, clocks. We’re just trying to knock down and tie up an abstract concept. We’ve had quite a skewed success. Time is time. It’s just what it is.