Time flies so fast that a blink of an eye takes me far away from where and when I’ve been before distracting and closing my eyes. It is September, whispers a calendar on my wall, it is already September. I am a grown-up with (sort of) a job, (kind of) uni studies and a big bag of things better forgotten on my shoulder. Pictures fly in front of my eyes, snapshots of what has been and what could have been. And all I can do is… nothing. Put them in a frame to upset myself even more, probably.
And I keep blinking and blinking and blinking, and everything around me is moving with a terrible speed while I am still. A fast forward built into my eyeballs.
A wild hurricane of events has broken my calmness as if it was made of thin glass. And I am standing aside, looking at it all as a silent witness, not being able to breathe out a single word. Sometimes these words are badly needed, sometimes they aren’t. But the truth is still the same. I am a silent witness of my own life.
So I’d better blink one more time: maybe I’ll find myself in a more pleasant time and space then.