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Living for 6:58

I'm watching the clock tick by.
6:21
I'm rubbing away the remnants of a restless sleep from my blurry eyes.
And now it's 6:24, and I really can't focus.
How did that happen?
I find myself asking this everyday as I am increasingly stunned at the speed which time seems to pass. The way an entire day can be surrendered to procrastination or...
I couldn't think of another word.
And now it's 6:50.
We only have 24 hours in a day. 24 hours to fill with moments of deep breaths, innovative thoughts, companionship...
I shouldn't have taken that nap. What good has that done?
I should have read something. Thought something. Worked a little harder at being something. Because we only have 24 hours in a day, and I find that I am continually haunted by phantoms who present me with a life that threatens to yield nothing more than ordinariness.
6:58 and I told someone I loved them.
And I feel a little better.
Because a life where I can really feel every second, minute, and hour is one that does not scare me at all.
There are only 24 hours in a day, and I am determined to live for every single one.



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