In a time when ‘Where do you see yourself in 5 years?’ is a daunting question to not being able to finding the matching pair of socks to work, to freaking out thinking about work-life balance (already! How long has it been?), yeap that’s growing up.
So one day I asked my mom what am I going to do with life. I told her how I couldn’t manage all the 1678 things I wanted to do.
‘Wake up at 5 AM,’ she said.
I was stumped. Was I expecting a soothing answer as a cure to my laziness burns, maybe?
Wake up at 5. It would probably solve many problems.
Trying to start a regular posts on Saturday evenings about growing up. Well, because holidays are a good time to overthink, drink hot chocolate and dream about everything that isn’t there!
We try to capture time
in vases, in glasses and bottles of wine
but it dries;
in prose scattered across words,
in notes and dimes,
but it flies.
We try to capture time,
in the ice cubes that melt
at the first touch of your palm,
in the sugar inside the
cheese cakes when we dine,
but it all ends up emptied
again and again.
We still try to capture time
in games of charades and
questions we’d never ask anyone,
in one word texts
nobody really understands;
in fears we try to drown
by denying the world made
by our very hands.