Drink some Hawaiin punch

This is an essay I wrote for Mr. Rueben. Found it and thought it interesting enough to add here.




Time is a conceptual conspiracy developed to retain order in a chaotic universe. Imagine life without it, without deadlines or the misnomer of actually wasting it. The little things we spend so much on would fall into the abyss of knowledge, leaving the world free for whatever shape it would want to take. Forever, eternity, infinity, would no longer be feared, and emotions, not numbers, would take control of the human spirit.
It’s funny that when time matters the least to us, that is when it has the greatest impact. Watching the waves crash the shores, not caring about anything but the breeze, is when it will sneak up, and force you to realize it’s there. Many people feel pity for the unconscious, unaware of the wonders of this world; but we should envy them, they get all the wonders of the surreal world without the hassle of this one.
There is but one thing that can ease the blow of this concept of time, and that is if we learn to appreciate the concept of a relationship. Relationships are the backbone of humanity, no matter if that is a relationship is between a man in his car, or with his wife. It shapes who he is and who he will become. Like it or not, when this man loses the car or the wife, a part of him will also be gone. And it all filters back to relationships. Whether the car finds a relationship with a junkyard or the wife finds one with a coffin, that relationship as far as the uniqueness of it is concerned, will be over.
Fate will also raise its head from the grave as we slip slowly into a coffin of comfort. It will chuckle like a child and sing a jump rope tune of what could have been. Were our actions fatal, or were they parachutes? As we fall from the paragon life, fate tears a hole in our chutes creating a net of catch-22s. Like a circus animal trying to escape we frantically twitch and check our shoulders hoping to somehow crawl out of misfortune. But we find the ground too hard and bars too close together, and our collapsing cage leaves a reminder that a hope for escape is useless.
At this moment of deepest despair, when the freefall takes your breath and you can’t find any footing, the realization of a life greatly lived patches up the hole and you float safely down. You realize the bird’s eye view of the world you stand upon. The clouds and sun, the soft glimmer of a summer afternoon. Those waves of apprehension crashing onto shores of time become distant memories floating out to sea. You send a fond farewell and get a one-way ticket home. Breathe a sigh, take a bow, and leave the baggage at the airport.