Hands of Time

They tell us those who spend too much time living in the past our naturally depressed. In one sense I want to disagree but clinically I have been diagnosed with depression but I don’t think my depression stems from that. Maybe it does and maybe it doesn’t but what is even weirder is how I manage to live giddy on the outside and tortured on the inside that every once in awhile those feelings merge together and I can’t help myself but snap. Since I was young I summed with so much rage. I understood how “Carrie” felt all I wanted was to blow everybody else away. As a teenager I loved to drink. I perfected being able to drown my sorrows. There was no greater time for living high strung and emotional than the 90’s and I think I perfected it to a tee. What I wanted was to be loved but I was more confused than ever. It was nothing that a good ol bottle of royal reserve couldn’t cure as I would puff one after another of my Player’s cigarettes. It didn’t matter who was with me or where we were actually. Even with all the second hand smoke the air was still fresher. Maybe because a lot of souls didn’t poison the air then. Imagine the air it doesn’t die it get’s recycled so sooner or later the air that you breath will be inside me and eventually vice versa.

Not everything that comes from the past is bad.I have a lot of good memories. Is their harm in remembering times of so much laughter and even smoking till our lungs were sore. Growing then was even more mysterious. Not everybody was up each other’s *sses like we are now. Imagine being in high school and before you even enter the front doors people are laughing at you because of some silly rumour that was started on your way to school. Kids want to be liked and even better if they are popular. What do some sacrifice to get there and how can we tell when our children begin to change? The thing is I would be scared for my son to do what I did but I have to let him live and be free to make his choices. Of course I don’t want him drinking or drugs or hanging around bad influences. As kids who wanted to be bad there would be no stopping us. Just getting worse when we get caught.

When I think about what causes the spiralling of a bad mood my brain tends to fixate on something. Something so painful that once it is in I can’t shake it. At least not effectively that is. That moment in time for me is when a loved one passes a conjure their memories in my mind. At first I swell with so much happiness I feel like nothing will ever stop me. Then I get crippled with so much emotion of the inevitable that is going to happen. One day I will be seperated from every one I have ever known. There is no way in knowing who will go first or who will be standing last. That feeling of departure though shouldn’t give us so much fear. It does though so painfully and hurts all we hold dear. No one here on Earth is oblivious to this there is always one thing left to tug at our hearts. You think out of love and respect for ourselves we would want to make living feel good. We can play nice with our neighbours. We can even try to make new friends. There is something holding us back though, it is the pain that is hiding within.

So where do we live if the past makes us sad and our future makes us anxious. Can we live in the moment, under lockdown without going crazy? You can if you find yourself interesting and like who you are. In your own best image you are finally set free, free to embrace you for you and love all that you see. It is horrible who we become in another person’s eyes. Most times people like to repeat what there eyes have seen to others. Imposing their opinions with no grain of truth making it impossibls for others to feel free. Imagine that burden to carry through the hand’s of father time.

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