The F word times 10.

"Fundamentally, all writing is about the same thing; it's about dying, about the brief flicker of time we have here, and the frustration that it creates." Mordecai Richler

Nothing can stop time. Whine, scream, stomp all you want, you can't slow it down. Nor can you speed it up. It is a consistently reliable tick that doesn't stop tocking. Comforting to know that you can count on the next second to always come. The minutes that follow turn into hours, and the hours into days.

You can't stop it, can't control it. Isn't that frustrating? Knowing there isn't a damn thing you can do to change it? Once you say or do something, you can't fix it. Can't take it back. Can't rewind time.

Because time will not fluctuate for anyone.

Shocker.

Why don't we become more diligent in finding productive things to do with the little time we have? Why waste time doing something we don't like? Something that we know isn't for us? Why do we feel the pressure from those around us to waste our time doing something we're not ready or willing to do yet?

Frustration.

Strip every other emotion and facial expression you think you see or perceive on my face. That is whats left.

Not being listened to.
That is frustration.

Not being heard.
That is frustration.

Not being understood.
That is frustration.

Not being able to find the right words.
That is frustration.

Not being able to speak loud enough.
That is frustration.

Not doing well enough.
That is frustration.

Failure.
That is frustration.



Love,
Khyrie Tess - just freaking frustrated