Killing Time
A poem about our paradoxical relationship with time
Time is a curious thing. It’s either too fast, too slow, or not enough of it. Sometimes we even say we have too much—boredom leads to indecision. The more we think about it, the more we become prisoners to it, frozen by strategic choices on how to best live our lives.
This poem is the result of a quick rabbit hole I fell into, inspired by the famous “killing time” phrase. (P.S.: There’s also a drawing inspired by this at the end!)
Why do we want to “kill time?”
Do we dislike it so much
We’d rather it not live at all?
We ache to speed it up
Or slow it down
Growing drastically enough
To dream of discarding it
From our lives entirely
We call time the enemy
Yet we’re the ones
Who invented it
We’re the ones
Who sought to control it
And now
It controls us
Time may be a construct
But we
Are its architects
Here’s a quirky little art piece featuring a broken clock, roses, and vines, representing the manmade and natural elements that make up time.
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„Time may be a construct
But we
Are its architects“
Yes!! 🤍