Writing time

It's 4:47 am when I start writing this. I've been a tad obsessed with time lately. I feel as if time is moving fast. They say as you get older, and I might have even mentioned this before, that time moves fast because there's less of it left in your life. Meaning, we are all crouching our way towards death, minute by minute, hour by hour. Despite this, I plan on living my life to the fullest in the time I have left. 

Yesterday, however, time moved kind of slow. We watched television, Adrian cooked, and I cuddled Chewbacca who is having a good week. There was no task list or running around. I sat on the couch and chilled out. I even left my homework because of the Monday holiday. 

We're reading Othello in my Shakespeare class. Othello is an example of letting a toxic person, namely Iago in the case of Othello, into your brain and life and the damage and havoc it can cause. Desdemona and Othello could have been happy but for Iago. I know it's only a play, a contrived construct and story, but what I find most interesting in my recent study of Shakespeare is the psychological issues in all of his plays. 

If I can take anything away from it, I would say trust yourself, trust those you love, and most of all, trust the happiness life brings. It is too easy to always be looking for the next shoe to fall, or focusing on the latest catastrophe, as opposed to looking at one's own life and what one has.

The rain just started to fall. I put the phone down to take a break from writing for a few and when I picked it back up, the sky was pouring out buckets of water. That's how time works you see. Everything changes in the moments that pass.