Tick tock: life's a clock

Look ahead!
A bird is flying graciously above my head and cutting into the thin air right in front of my eyes.
Look further down to its talons!
It is gripping something.
Something - a small, circular object.
It is a gold pocket watch.
My gold pocket watch. My time. 
"Oh! A bird just stole my time away!" I say.

I hope - I really do - that a bird really stole the time. That way, I could chase the bird and get my time back and therefore, relieve myself of the moments I hold preciously. Too metaphoric, I know. But I really wish . . .

Time is slipping away. Yes - that devil called time. "It feels just like yesterday" reverberates in your mind everyday. I have reached that point in my life where New Year doesn't fell special anymore. I used to be excited around the end of the year. I spared 15 minutes before the clock struck 12am to send "Happy New Year! May your year be filled with this and that" to families, friends, colleagues, neighbours, teachers, and those people I-don't-talk-to-anymore-since-the-dinos-roamed-the-earth-oh-wait-I-wasn't-born-yet. "New year, new self" was my theme in every new year. Then the year just passed in the blink of an eye.

When I turned 20, this did not matter as much as it was before. I feel like an old person who just want to stop growing up. Life becomes tough when you're 20. Or before 20. Or maybe after - it depends. For me, it's when I turn 20. Every trouble, problem, hardship - you name it - seemed impatient to gnaw on my frail being. Proudly I announce, my friend, that I have encountered the nasty side of our world. "The world's tough, milady," said the Earth.

This is why people (and I) worship Forever Young song so much. Because they we don't want to face reality. Our childhood was so fun and exhilirating that we took it for granted and suddenly - BAM - you're on your 40s. Life begins at forty, people say. I say, life begins at twenty. When you're twenty, you feel like you're on the top of the world lookin' down on creation (yay Carpenters!). People usually encounter a bunch of first-times on their 20s. First day of uni, first job, first time living independent, first election, first vodka, first hangover, first cig, first sexual encounter, etc. If you had been a nerd/wallflower throughout your secondary years, then I believe the "first-time" list above describes you.

Sometimes you feel time catches up with you. So many things to do in so little time; you feel the urge to try everything in life. It's good to have an irresistible stomach-churning sensation that compels you to live beyond your limits! But sometimes, the effect is the opposite: you ended up with wrong choices, wounded feelings, broken relationship. It's because we can't wait any longer to do the things we're supposed to do in the future. Or else, you're living in the moment. The present time pushes you take prompt action. Sometimes the outcome is good, but it's often bad. Unwanted pregnancies, suicide, prolonged gap years... These happen because people focus too much on the present, not the future.

Time, oh, time! Why are you so tricky? How can we live the moment if we have to fix our eyes on what awaits us in the future?

I came up with my own epilogue about time:

I want to befriend time. I don't want to stop growing up. I don't want to be twenty forever. I would really like to see how my future unfolds itself one step at a time. . . *


*However, still with my eyes wide open in case the bird with the gold pocket watch flies nearby. Give me back my gold pocket watch, you thief of time!