Cars

Anyone who has driven in a car with me recently has come to understand one fact when I get behind the wheel, I love to race. Certainly it is not safe at all, yet as is the case with most things involving this form of entertainment I find myself doing it anyways. Often dodging in between gaps of cars that, under normal judgment, would seem risky or dangerous. Why do I find myself doing this? This compulsion and urge for speed that drives, no pun intended, me so much. Am I an addict to the rush? Is it the control that I crave so much? No, it is much simpler than that. I find myself simply wishing to make up lost time that we, as humans, always seem to let slip through our grip, water through a screen if you will. This notion and thought is my fault though, it is my idiocy, and I will explain exactly why.

How many hours are there in a day? 24. How many minutes are there in a day? 1440. How many seconds are there in a day? 86,400. When the day is done and we find ourselves aged that twenty four hours more, do these numbers change? Do they ever fluctuate? No, they are always the same. These are the finite and definitive numbers that we have assigned the time span of a day. Then, why is it that I try and make up for lost time? Time is not lost. The numbers are always the same at the end of the day. If then, one is trying to find something that was never in fact lost, would that not be their fault and idiocy? You can answer that for yourself, you know my feelings on this subject. Now then, what am I trying to get at with this whole blog? It is the fruitless and meaningless time we waste throughout the day, occupying our minds with nonsense that simply helps us deal with reality.

I know that humans are not perfect, we are organic, we are not created in factories, do not run off an infinite power source, and thus will always have faults. Of course, in modern day terms, it is impossible to not waste some "time" throughout the day. We need a break from the everyday routine of work and labor. It is only natural. Yet, why would we create a feeling of guilt when we experience this mental concept of "loss time"? Better still, what of this feeling of pride we receive when we actually make up for "loss time"? Is it that we are thus admitting to ourselves that we are in fact wasting our existence throughout the day at certain intervals? Why else would there be this feeling of guilt, or pride, in our minds? Humans are not machines, they are not cars, able to ride along the highway known as life, with minimal stops or detours for routine maintenance. I mean look at me, I am wasting my time writing this blog...about wasting time. That's some irony for you. Take care, see you out on the roads.