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i often think about timetime is funnysometimes it feels like the hours are passing by in minutes and there’s no way to slow down,no matter how hard you tryand other times it feels as if a blink lasts an entire weeki think about how much time we have left, and how much time we’ve used upit’s terrifyingnot knowingnot knowing how much we have lefti try to make the most of it, i dobutonce you use up that timethere’s no going backi used to be afraid of the darknot knowing what lies behind the shadows in my closetanything could be in thereanything to end my timethere and theni’m not anymorebeing scared of a shadow is a waste of timedon’t you think?now i’m scared of much more than the darknessdeath itself, will soon come to collect mei can feel itit looms behind the barista at my favorite coffee shopit stands next to my boss every time i’m in his officei can’t see itbut i can feel itsomething is comingto end my timei suppose there’s not much i can do about itbut i can make the most of what time i have leftof course i'm not going to do anything stupid like jumping out of an airplane or climbing mount everest, nothat would bring me far more close to death than i already ami can feel death looming about other people tooit’s not just mei can’t tell how people are going to diebut it’s closesometimes almost too closethe other day i felt death looming over an older womanshe was about to cross the streeti shouted for her, knowing something awful was about to happen on that crosswalkshe stopped and turned to mejust as she did, two cars collided directly where she would have been if she had continuedi rushed over to her and death scurried awaythat wasn’t the first time i had stopped, or at least delayed deaths plansi wasn’t always luckyi had seen deathseen it workseen it happensometimes it was peacefulother times it was painful and longdragged outi didn’t stay to watch those onessometimes i think i’m already deadthe way that people interact with me isdifferenti see fear in their eyesi’ve never looked in a mirrorbut i bet if i did i would be scared toofunny thing time isonce you’re deadyou have no sense of itnot saying i’m deadam i dead?i could be deadmaybe it had come to collect me and inever noticedis that why i can feel itdeatham i death?is it me?am i the one that looms over otherslurks in the shadows of the closetswatches over everythingwaiting for someone’s time to End