Time seems a fleeting idea, no longer set in stone. Years don't exist anymore, in anything more than a numeral score. Where years once felt a journey, now the seasons mesh together, to form an amalgamation of hazy things, tossed about in the twilight zone. The more I spend my time improving, and working on it all. The shorter the days get, like they aren't even days at all. Where once each day felt like an adventure, and a hour a quest, a minute a step forward and a second a thought. Now the weeks string together lazily, calling themselves days. Years feel like a single season, no season really much different from them all. I look back at years past and wonder, what wonderous blunder worked for then. To test it again in the by-and-by. Five years, and so much has changed. Yet it was like I blinked, and it all went by. I want my years to feel longer, while I can still focus on myself, and not worry about anyone. I don't want to blink again and wake up, in the yonder, feeling like the memories made are dull, and should've been fonder. To dream of now in the yonder-