There is something odd about the concept of time. It suggests that every hour, every minute, every second have the same length. That life is countable and everyone has got the same amount of it. To me, this feels wrong.
Time is like the perfect dance. A prompt start, a smooth acceleration, the flow kicks in, it gets rhythmic and sweaty, then again elegant and on the beat. Sometimes you surf on a wave, months woosh by like flying fishes, only you and the speed of sound. A sudden halt. The world in slow motion, the second so clear, you will remember it the rest of your life, sparkling details, so much beauty, you think your heart stopped. A moment of trust. A night on a roof. The first kiss. The last goodbye. The music comes back, you dance a cha-cha-charleston, a melancholic milonga, nostalgia rushing in, rocketing back to a moment of the past, just one second but it feels like forever. And it will be forever, as long as you remember it.
Living today, feeling in the past, thinking about tomorrow.
Time, it’s the substance my moments are made of. Everything else is counting empty numbers, already vanished by now.
This video was made by the inspirational artist Adam Magyar.