Tempes Fugit

Time is the most infinite most abstract thing that the human mind has characterised over the course of centuries. For us it moves fast, slow, hyperspeed or snailspeed. Whatever the tempo of that moment is, there is never always too much time and not enough. Time flies by as silent whispers, concious of the passing but never close enough to grasp it. I couldn't have imagined studying at the university of Leiden at the beginning of last year, now I can't imagine how long ago it seems but in fact it has only been 365 days, 52 weeks, 12 months, 1 year and 252.600 somewhat minutes. Indication of time has only been made to make it clear for everyone when that tomorrow is, when the at noon falls and when lunch break in fact is lunch break and another pissbreak. Time is still relative and still moving on, even as you are reading this. So many things might have happened between me passing this on through my fingers, onto a computer screen and you reading this. It is a weird idea that in my future you will be reading this, while it is your present and me writing this is your past.