I first posted this on my other blog, ‘Further Ramblings’ as it is not directly connected to writing, to which this blog is dedicated.
That said and after reading these words again it stuck me that most, if not all, who write will understand the the thoughts herin.
Therefore, I now post this here. Comments and feedback are, as always, welcome.
Thank you, Paul
There is far more to our personal dispositions than the simple ticking of our circadian clock. External influences abound. None more so, in my view than the diurnal effect of the sun and the moon, of light and dark.
While they are each autonomous in their distinct natures, each flow seamlessly into and from one another. A unified merging of opposing natural qualities.
The respective character of all, felt by our minds as their progress inexorably continues, thus affecting our moods and temperaments at any particular given time.
I for one have often been aware of such ethereal properties impacting on my senses. How time slows in the darkness of the early hours, the clock ticks visibly slower, the second hand creeping hesitantly onwards.
Late night cafés; unhurried, peaceful; the darkness smothering the world in its cloak of slumber, slowing all movement to a stumble.
Bus terminals, sitting, waiting under glowing industrial fluorescence, fighting to hold back the invading night. Time yawns and stretches towards dawn.
Early winter mornings, chill air and goosebumps. Sunlight, bright yet devoid of heat. Eyes still encrusted by the Sandman’s nocturnal visit as time begins to rouse itself; a new dawn.
The nights as we lay in the arms of a lover, wishing that this time could last forever and dreading the breaking of dawn.
These times are factors of circadian variation. All and more, separate yet connected, quotidian, diurnal, circadian. Influenced, induced, impelled. Time is not constant, time is respective, subjective and particular. Time is a substance, a distillate, a quintessence of our moods.
Yesterday, during the darkening hours we thought so.
Yet as the morning breaks once more, uncertainties arise with the sun. Such are our thoughts, our minds and the subconscious workings of deep cognative processes within ourselves.
We are not separate entities of individual consciousness, we are simply cogs; one single gear of many within the greater unity of encompassing life, affected by influences beyond that of our singular understanding.
I am, therefore time dictates.
Tempus fugit. Carp diem, amicis meis