I Am Never Really Good With Speed
One goddamn thing: speed. Who invented it? I have no answer other than maybe God, but how can such a complex thing be invented by the yet known. Speed sometimes feel more real than the touch of God itself. I can see my skin sagging and my vision impaired day by day, while my prayers haven’t been realized all through.
How lame, I thought, being more and more forgettable while trying to expand our existence in the world. it is obscure as it sounds. Even when the daylight worn out, people have no dealings with the slow-down or a stop of time. Each day and each seconds wasted. For nothing but another hopeless tears or future disappointments.
I am a scouring drop of water finding its way through eternities of sands. I am a forgotten mantra. I just wish I could stop time, and the speed that is attached to it.
