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Time – the illusion created in the ephemeral present by desperately wanting to better relive what one deliberately misremembers while pre-emptively re-writing the future. Equally illusiory is the connotation of 'time' as a commodity, to be spent, saved, or given.
Time belongs to no person; it is consequence and agent of the dissolution of the universe, and the notion that time can be possessed is even more implausible than that land can be possessed. Land crumbles away, rises and sinks, changes constantly, but if the universe were like a great clockworks and each atom and mote a gear or whirling hand time would be the slow unwinding of the spring, the act of the rising and falling and evaporation of the land. How can one own an act? How can it be spent or saved? Fool, it cannot – nor can you.
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