Ticking Clocks

Time is such an elusive marker of life vanishing before our eyes. The last year of my life has been so full of transitions and changes that it feels like 10 years have passed since last summer. I’m not sure if I’ve been racing towards things so much as I’ve been running away from things. Either way, I’ve still felt bound to the unceasing rhythm of a treadmill. It’s like Fitzgerald wrote, in one of the most profound pieces of literature I’ve ever read:

“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter–tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther…And then one fine morning–So we beat on, boats against the current, drawn back ceaselessly into the past.”