time is sanity’s shadow.

september was long. some days i swore the clocks all stopped and everybody mowed their lawns or pushed snotty nosed kids on swings for just a few minutes longer but these slips in time went unnoticed by everybody except  for those of us who had no place to be. my dad always preached the importance of being a productive member of society and taught us well trodden adages like ‘time is of the essence, it is money and it is ticking.’ time became a bomb, made me anxious, made me afraid of  what was coming after the moment the ticking stopped. my dad died on september 13th, but i could still feel his presence when my shadow was still stuck to my feet at half past eight.  i showed up to his funeral two hours late, i looked in his casket at his gray face and i felt like hundreds of tiny atom bombs were exploding inside my body and time suddenly felt so fucking real and infititely short because it had sold him out even though he gave his entire life to it. i am not stupid, i know that nobody can live forever but i just don’t ever want to die. september was a sobering 30 days where i fought with the realization that 30 days don’t mean shit, that my dad was going to spend the rest of eternity in the ground with the worms and one day i’d join them. suddently everything around me had an expiry date from the heat of the sun to a trees hold on its leaves and my sanity began to wither away when they covered my fathers casket with black soil. time is the holes in my shoes and the lines on my face and pictures of dead people hanging on walls.