Left Out

Lately, I'm rushing. Sometimes the world spins so fast I couldn't catch my breath. I couldn't keep up. With every few moments I can steal for myself, I wonder, am I really alive? In every moment unhurried, life mocks me, berating as to why I always choose to sit by the sidelines. Someone said that nonliving things go with the current but the living go against it. If I am living, when do I take control?

I once obsessed over a guy who walked as if he has all the time in the world. So unhurried, it seemed to me the whole world waits upon him. If only I could have a piece of that. Without panic, without guilt, take sometime for myself to smell the flowers and appreciate the beauty in my life. But I have spent most of my time sleeping nothing is left anymore. So now I have to run in order to keep up, no time for the flowers, the train is coming and it waits for no one.