life is just a story and you are the binding of my book**
(sjb)

How can you define time?
Is there a definition to it?
Some say time passes fast.
Some say it passes slow.
The universe has been around for billions of years.
But that wasn't long ago, right?
There is no beginning to time.
Or end to it.
It's infinite.
But, is a second little or a lot of time?
A second is in an hour is in a day is in a week is in a month is in a year is in a decade is in a century is in a millennial, is in a million years is in a billion years is in a trillion years and so forth.
Yet...
A nanosecond is in a microsecond is in a millisecond is in a hundredth of a second is in a tenth of a second is in a ninth of a second is in an eighth of a second is in a seventh of a second is in a sixth of a second is in a fifth of a second is in a fourth of a second is in a third of a second is in half a second and so forth.  

Time doesn't start, but it doesn't end.

TIME IS INFINITE!

What is the definition of infinite?

In the end,
Who tells me who I am?
he tells me that it's him,
and she tells me that it's her.
And this entitlement is surely not universal.

We must decide ourselves.
Horrifically.
But how can I possibly be blind to all of this noise?
When the streets are filled with final blueprints
Of how my life will play out?

For all of us
The words placed upon us slither around our arteries
And up to our brains.
They insert venom into the soul gleefully.
And the poison is ubiquitous.
It's terribly malicious.
Because we must decide.
Who speaks fact
and who fiction.

In the end,
I must decide who I am.
I must dig into my heart with a rusty shovel and push.
My only wish
is that I don't hate what emerges from this abyss.

What I've learned is you can never be too careful
You think that everything is fine
You think that no one will ever know
How many walls have been built and
Knocked down inside of your head
You can never keep something hidden forever
No matter how careful
All secrets will step into the light
Eventually