Hello stranger...
Im literal writing this in a ripped sheet of my school book because I forgot to bring my notebook, yeah, that's me always forgetting something. So I'm in class and I just suddenly realized all that happened in a month, s**t, more things happened than in my entire life. My teacher is nowhere to be seen and I somehow started thinking about time and well yeah, I wrote.
Time...the one resourse that actually matters...its the bare thing that keeps us alive. Its that one resourse that when it runs out you cant get it back, but what is time? We use it as a measure but there has to be a more meaningful meaning to it if its so fundamental for us right? Time is...life, without it we couldnt live and yet we take that our time is infinite, we've grown so used to living that we don'
