Two posts filled with cliché time related metaphors in a row is way too many.
It is time to move on.
We all enjoy the escaping. We all have fun on the vacations. We all return and wish we could go back. That longing fades soon enough, though. To the grid we shall return. Welcome back.
Today's Jazz Hands fought against the clock, but quickly realized that time is not the enemy. Time is not out to get me or my flailing hands and time does not pick sides. There's a pretty good argument out there that suggests time doesn't even exist. My guess, which has a fairly low percentage chance of being accurate, is that time is something we try to define and understand, control even...but it's something that we can not truly know or harness. Our grasp on the concept of time is out of our cerebral reach.
As stated, I'm likely wrong. Time will tell.
Day one-hundred and sixty complete.
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