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Time is the fastest thing on Earth. I used to think the fastest thing on Earth was falling in love, or the pain of a shot and how it immediately fades when it’s taken out of your body, sometimes I believed it to be a well-spent day, but actually it is time.
The way years can be summarised- in moments, and people you’ve known for a long time- in words. Last year was the year I met you, this year is the year our story ends. Two years ago was the year I cut my hair, this year is the year I desire to do so again. How can 365 days mean nothing to me, but a person and a haircut do? Perhaps because the number 365 is big, but what happens during it isn’t? Or maybe I remember but I only recall the things I felt the most.
I recall listening to the sound of my heartbreak, and feeling warmth tingle my body when you tried to fix me. I recall how I felt after I walked out of that workplace to never return again, and I remember how I walked into the new one with ambitions and plans to blind me.
When this year ends, I don’t want it to be a you year, I don’t want it to be a haircut year, or a pandemic year. I want it to be my year, a year to recall something that belongs to me- a feeling initiated, ended and controlled by my own will.
For time is fast, and people are but shadows that you get to see clearly for a fraction of your time, then they fade away into the shadows once more. Haircuts aren’t highlights, and places are but walls made of sand. In the end, what I did, who I became, is what all that will be the highlight of my life, so I need it to be great… I need it to be worth becoming an everlasting memory!