We run after time until we run out of it. Time is money, but time is priceless. Time flows, but you can’t stop it. In writing we freeze time, we hold it and trade it. Most of what is here is thoughts I wish a version of me who is far away in space and time could experience without the drift of memory, could be told as if by a friend, right there, right in that moment. In the past they might have imparted me knowledge and in the future they may impart me wisdom. In the present they give me peace.

If you’re there, then I hope those frozen hours of my life are worth some of the liquid time in yours. If they aren’t, it’s good. They’re worth being left when I’m done wasting time and it finally wastes me.