if only i had countless hours in the day. if day was never divided by twenty-four and night divided by winks of sleep and my restless movements, well, then, i'd have enough time to be.
there's is just simply not enough of it these days. not enough to catch up with a friend you've been meaning to meet for ages, no matter how meaningless the conversation or how bland the coffee-and-cream. not enough to burnt your toast, not enough to sleep later than noon. there's no time to fix one's nails, or walk down the street at a leisurely pace without looking behind yout shoulder or glancing at the time. no time to be leisurely at all, without the thought of being late entering your mind.
there's no time to be early, but always enough to be late.
however, take comfort in this:
there's a time for everything, though.
a time to be and a time to not.
a time to laugh, to cry (a lot).
even a time to love.
and may it be perpetual.