Water through my hands,
wind through my hair.

The resource I lacked the most,
and now I have time
coming at me in bulk
But the amount of free time drowns me.

Then next the realization,
isn't the amount of time I have that matters
its what I make out of it

I just spiral
all the possibilities;
I could write a book,
I could finish reading those,
I could beat up a game,
I could learn a new language.

And the more I spiral with the possibilities
time rushes right pass me
till I have no time left

And I just keep tightening the spiral
Spiraling down