time is a lie (to an extent)
everyone lives on a different timeline - how the hell do we make sense of that? ✿𑁍❀
Hi crushes,
Bringing you a burning question from our live SYSCA Supporter hangout this week (one we didn’t have time to answer because we were too busy mastering the art of the best dinner party guests — Cleopatra, obviously).
This one feels just as burning and important to me as it is to you, so I thought I’d answer it here!
Bel! How do you make sense of time passing by when your personal milestones seem to be different from those of the friends/acquaintances/random people you might see on your screen?
Firstly, I can’t stop playing this song by The Pharcyde when turning this conundrum over in my mind, which brings me back to a dizzy memory of being 24 and seeing them play live in Indonesia and the freest maybe I’ve ever felt.
Which brings me not so seamlessly to this internet beat poem of useful ways for you to think about time that might disentangle you from this feeling and point you towards that Theodore Roosevelt quote that you may have seen on some Air BnB canvas art one time or tattooed in Latin on the back of some dude’s arm you went on one Tinder date with, “comparison is the thief of joy.”
Time is a lie (to an extent).
We made up all these markers to make sense of the world, and even now, they’re unravelling. Why 21sts and not 22nds? Who said that 8 hours a day was the standard amount of time to work? Why was all the best linear TV programming at 8.30 in the evening? Someone just decided one day, and we all followed suit. I cannot encourage travelling to different countries that have different understandings of time enough. You end up enjoying the fact that it took the ferry three hours to arrive or that dinner wasn’t served until nine. Not better or worse, just different.