I have decided I’m against time. It only fucks up
my days, months, years, and it’d be better to stop paying such close attention
to it. Unfortunately, most of the mechanisms of being an allegedly productive
member of society revolve around punctuality, or at least being close to on
time. “Time is money” is some shit tattooed into our subconscious. Fuck it
though. I’m going for a walk – a long walk of a half a million miles, for about
twenty minutes or so. Everything from now on is “twenty minutes or so”. When
will I be there? Twenty minutes or so. How long ‘til dinner? Twenty minutes or
so. When will you retire? Twenty minutes or so. How long will this existential
nightmare continue? Twenty minutes or so. See? It’s not so bad.
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