I think I will spend a lot of life so obsessed with the trivials around the whole time change thing. Oh, me and time – forever in such toil.
Without going on about it too much, I’m in my living room, in the very dark – the same dark as outside, and the time is whatever it is – it’s just a time it shouldn’t be. The whole world is confused slightly, for a moment.
And it’s over and your used to a new way, so used to it you quickly forget it was ever any different. The smells of each season and time of day we remember over and over and then forget, always forget, until that smell, that taste of the light comes around again and we think “oh, I know this now.” And I usually smile cause the here I remember is lovely, some lovely time of me.
Life is full of all these little reminders of itself. Of ourself.
We briefly find ourselves desperate for some reason, like the world is ending. And is passes, like the day. Passes like another reminder that the whole thing is just dust and ash.
A ll we did was change the time of day.