I’m drinking a half glass of Ginger ale and listening to Madonna’s latest album, Confessions on a dance floor. I’ve been sitting here for hours, searching through old photos, wasting time, thinking, deciding. “Time goes by so slowly,” Madonna sings. She is right I think. In reality time does go by slowly, but in our head we fast forward everything to the future. Nothing is good enough in the present moment. Why? Is it because we think things will be better later?
I’m going to a graduation ceremony on Friday in Blacksburg, Virginia. It’s a four hour drive, but they say it’s a beautiful city. There was a time when long drives bored me, tired me, annoyed me. But it’s different today. Today, long drives mean I get more time to think, dream, and look outside the car window to what’s out there, whatever it is. I listen to the little conversations we have in the car, the funny or lame jokes, the gossip about the distant friends or cousins, the little stories that are told in great detail. I lean back on my seat, listen to their discussions or close my eyes and imagine my own stories. Time goes by so slowly, yet so fast. It’s strange.