One of the most troubling phenomena that occur in my life is neglect of time. I assume such a pervasive force remains as some facet of existence that I’m just immune to. I take many moments for granted, and live too comfortably with all the grand gestures of life entwined in routine. For instance, today I had been at school very late for an event that I have gone to now for three years. When we (everyone at this event) had exhausted the fun, and most people had gone home, my friend and I sat down with our minds at ease. Situated comfortably on the wet pavement, we looked up for a moment at the beautifully painted canvas, with each color a deliberated brushstroke. A few carrier pigeons flew as a trio, carried out from our small margin of sight. And the wind moved delicately under the confines of the sky, as it was fully governed by the many layers of pigment. In awe of the beauty my friend turned her head to take in more than that of physical sights. And so she commented on how just two years prior we had been sitting under the awning of the open area, with the unsaid notion of occasional friends, yet ended up chatting for hours, catching up on the stresses and joys and elapsed events. And now two years later we have matured that frequent communication into a compatible and deep friendship, with all the memories shadowed by the present. Just as I knowingly glorify my future, I tend to forget these vital aspects of my past.

Every morning I wake up for school, and as I take a zero period, moving throughout the house I am surrounded by the darkness projected in every window. It’s after I get ready, and am able to climb up the tiled staircase that leads immediately to a two paneled outlook of our neighborhood, that I get to question myself. For I see the sunrise from that window, and it is so beautiful that in that very moment I forget about everything going on around me. I neglect the burnt waffles in the toaster, the test I had not studied for, and the fact that I would be getting late for school. I trade it for this ability to live “deliberately.” As I have the luxury of accessing this exquisite grandeur of life, I am forced to recognize the finite years we have to appreciate this evident allurement. In that instance I had known the presence of time, as it allowed for the precious moment, and also had notion of its limited elapsing effect.

We have a mass media targeting people by their identities and affiliations, a world of hate occurring under our noses, and individuals being mocked and bullied routinely. Yet nothing bothers me more than the attention we are denying of helping each person accomplish individual aspirations. I think we’ve normalized immunity to the wrong pandemic disease. And have generated a facade of something more severe than just a fast paced life. We have destabilized the meaning of time, therefore reducing our appreciation of natural events and daily instances of pure beauty. Whether through the ACT, or another fake grapple at college acceptance, the dedication to utilize these precious moments are sacrificed. I have handed in my ability to see and value, for a standardized test of mockery used to label us under such inordinate branches of what is considered smart. Time is not subjected to a stop and go nature, as it is in a perpetual occurrence that cannot be avoided, so then why do we allow ourselves to move along in a current of water, blind to what is transpiring above the surface.

The choice of refusal to the service of homogenized individuals is there, as is the ability to perceive past just the aspect of the now. Imagine looking up at the sky and remembering your thoughts two years prior, in the same spot, looking at the same atmosphere. The finite aspect of time is then almost countered by the infinite deliberation of thought, readily available at any given moment.