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.
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