We always say we got all the time in the world.
Yet, we don’t.
It’s always less than 12 hours by the end of the week. After 45-50 working hours and the rest we need to spend by ourselves.
In those less than 12 hours, sometimes I wish we were back in college. We could skip a class or two. Go out for some adventure outside the city for a whole day. Or impulsively take a trip or two, randomly, for a whole week to venture further.
In those less than 12 hours, I sometimes wish we were still in high school. So we can meet every single day between classes. Pick our favourite spot on the canteen to have some lunch. Or stay until it’s late afternoon, waiting for each other’s extra club activity just so we can go home together.
In those less than 12 hours, I sometimes wish we were only kids. We could play all day from morning until dusk. There’ll be lunch time, nap time, or bath time, but we’ll meet shortly in no time to continue our imaginary adventure few hours ago.
In those less than 12 hours, I wish we were much younger, more careless, more irresponsible, yet we really have all the time. In those less than 20 hours, I wish we were not tied by many obligations and time consuming as adults are.
I wish we were just there at the moment which cannot be measured by time and any of its parameters.
Written while listening through Jack Johnson’s album In Between Dreams.