Judgement takes time, even when
thoughts are immediate. Four
years or five. I, then, and I now
(even as few as nine minutes ago)
questioned your motives and
morals. Yet I looked past my
concerns, or was too caught up
in a temporary rush, and never
even considered the impermanent
state of affairs. How do situations
slowly end up moving too quickly?
How do you know something is
over before the end arrives, and
why are you so saddened to realize
it is gone when it might never have
been there in the first place? Why
do you rarely remember, except at
3:12, when you could not even do
anything about it in the first place?
You knew, even at the time, it was
all about timing.