Time is a funny thing. Second looks are also equally bizarre. The two combined creates a jarring effect that leaves the viewer shaken, questioning things, searching for answers or shreds of information posing as placebic answers. Chasing the seemingly unanswerable questions of why and how.
The endless pursuit of happiness by way of answers by way of the eternal chase.
Are we running from or towards something? What happens if we stop? Does something catch up? If so, what is it? What's so bad about it? What if it's good?
On the other hand, what's happens if we just keep running? Will we catch or even get close to what ever it is we are chasing? Will we escape what we were running from? Is the predator so evil we must keep running? Is the prey so worth the exhaustion and endless chasing?
More question than answers and more to think about. More to consider. More to factor in before deciding.
Why is it that only when things pause for a heartbeat do I feel like I've just let the sands of time slip through my fingers and into the swift embrace of the wind of existence?
Years ago, there was so much brightness and eagerness. Now that brightness is dimming and blending into everything else. It's still special but it doesn't stand out as much as it should.
How did so much time just pass me by?
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