Time.

Some days aren't meant to last. They end so we can fully appreciate time in all it’s harshness. The best days go the quickest, the worst however, seem to last a lifetime. There’s something about days that are confusing yet beautiful. Some days feel like a few hours, other feel like a week, yet they all start at exactly the same time, and end at exactly the same time. Every day. Every night. So why do the good days fly by? They say time flies when you’re having fun but is it that we’re so caught up in the moment that in that moment what feels like two minutes is two hours? Time is unimaginable  I find it hard to think of time. You never think of the time it takes to cook something, or to travel somewhere. You know how long it may take but you don't actually think of the time, do you  It’s always the start and finish you think of. Time is endless, time is gone, time is yet to come. Is time even present? It’s constantly changing so can we really claim that we are in ‘the present’? I don’t believe so, the end of this post will be written in the future, not the present, I’m writing this post right now but the start is the past. That sentence is the past. Everything is past or future. We are on a constant journey through time and we are magnificent creatures. Some days aren't meant to last, some days are meant to end, so we can fully appreciate time in all it’s magnificence.