Time

Why does each day seem to go by more quickly than yesterday?

Why does it constantly feel like there isn't enough time? Even when I do not know what I want to do, I still feel the longing for more time.

I want timelessness. Its hard to truly enjoy any moment to its very fullest when, somewhere near or distant in my mind, lurks the reality that the moment must end. Day becomes night. And then we start again. Each day is a marker, a page in our lives. Each year is a chapter. There is a definite beginning and a definite end. Somewhere between is where we live. But that living seems always to be tainted by the knowledge that every story has an ending. I think the desire for timelessness is very real, very honest, and pure. I believe that we all have that desire, and that it comes innately. My question is, why? Why do we all worry about time? About the days passing by? Unless we might have some unconcious knowledge that timelessness does exist. Maybe we were built for a timeless world but cursed by a finite existence. And so we will never truly find joy in this world. In this fleshed existence. Every object or idea is earmarked for ending. We will not find joy until we set our heart, our desire on things not of this world. Eternal, timeless things.