Oh if it were so! Large, falling chunks of time, spilling into the spaces of humanity, wasted.
Even smaller, tiny slivers of time, tinkling in richness of feeling and sound, drift quietly, ignored . The boisterous clamoring of wasted time invites us, seduces us to pay attention-like spoiled petulant children, feet stomping, wailing, gimmee-gimmee-I want, can't help but look at the wreckage -kind of time..
Adding the hours-thousands, no perhaps millions of people hours added together, feeding off the carcass of wasted time.
Perhaps it isn't wasted. Perhaps time is meant to be wasted on nothingness-like twinkies-empty on the inside with a scant touch of sugar to fool the mind.
Sweet time, time rushing into eternity, time lost only by regrets yet treasured and rewarded with sweet moments,
that time lives as well,
lightly,
honeyed moments
quietly,
without fanfare,
without media
feathered by thoughtfulness
tasted in awareness.
