We belong to the impressions.
Impressions of being in control of time.
Time measured against the hand watch.
And we think that time belongs to us.
That we can control it.
Seconds that do not belong to us.
Because they’re all his.
We were wearing his … watch seconds.
On the hands and in the hearts …
The wristwatch measures the time outside.
The clock in the heart measures the heartbeat.
We forget about the time inside.
We forget about time of our soul.
We are guided by time outside.
We carry expensive or less expensive items.
And we load to run the secondary.
Wandering towards destiny.
We leave behind a yesterday, we pass a today and we look forward to a new tomorrow.
But who is that tomorrow?
Maybe a hope … put in a backpack in which you packed far too many dreams.
We often rush to tomorrow, forgetting about today.
But the clocks never go back.
And we cannot recover the seconds spent, lost and forgotten to be lived.