Time...it never ends. The whole world could be silent, except for one thing, the clock. It will tick in the silent times and the loud. In the sad times and the happy times. Sometimes it feels like it is just dragging by, and other times it flies by. But in truth it is all the same length. Every minute is precious because once its gone it will never come back. Lost forever, subtracted from the unknown number that is your life.
Stop, listen. You may hear the wind or breathing or distant talking but lying underneath is ticking. Let the sound fill you. To some the noise reminds them of appointments and schedules ; it creates anxiety, but I want you to push that feeling aside. Others at the sound feel aged. They realize that they're getting closer to life's final lap, but push that feeling aside. Let the sound flow through you, peacefully. Let the enormity of it fill your head.
Time is something we never think about in its definition but in its common form. Constantly talking about it, revolving our lives around it.
"What time is it?"
"How about four o'clock?"
"How much longer?"
"Five more minutes!"
It is the one thing we can depend on, but the thing we hate the most.
Do you hear it? The ticking, constant and unwavering. I doesn't care about how we feel. It has no mercy. It will age you, from young and fair to old and weathered. But it gives us memories. It teaches us, so that when we near our time ends we will be wise and learned. The wrinkles to some will be ugly, but in my eyes they are evidence of an old friend, one that was there until the end.
So the ticking, to me, is the reminder of the one thing that will never change. Always there. Just listen to it.