Of secrets and gems;

I can never quite wrap my head around the relativity of time. And I’m not talking about the “time flies when you’re having fun” version. That one is pretty straightforward. What I’d like to know is, how is it that I’ve only been back for about week only but New York feels as far as London? Or, how is it that one semester lasted only three and a half months but I feel like I’m so tired of NUS already? How come two short years of friendships can amount to more than the 5, 6, 7 and more years I’ve known these people? How could time ever be used to measure anything at all?

Days have rolled into each other; dates stopped marking the start and end of one.What does the third of January even mean? How is it different from the first, second, fourth, fifth. What good is it to differentiate my months into February, March, April, and May, when the next four are going to be another draining whole.

The difference between now and then is five months. Again, that hardly measures anything. Excitement and anticipation turned to dread and fear.

I’m so tired. No, I am exhausted. Today Pastor defined exhaustion as the fatigue of the soul. But this has manifested in the physical. I can feel myself protesting.

Because once we cross the threshold of what they’ve termed ‘midnight’ then I can no longer hide behind time. I promised to restart. And my effort will never be enough.


But I know You’re my only hope.