You are not enough in the unedited time

I know the desire of the slow time that escapes the moment you come craving for it, the desire not to be consumed in the speed that surrounds us in the every day talk, in the desire to render visible ourselves for the consumption of the other; otherwise how do you make sense of what you did with the passing time. There is a question that lingers, often unasked, often concealed, what do you do when you are not working? What is it that consumes your day? A question hard to answer if all that you have been doing is living it, soaking in the pauses that it offers, the lingering scent of the passing time wrapping itself around you, entering the interstices you dared enter not for you lacked the courage all along, raising uncomfortable questions that you always desired to escape. It trickles down in nano seconds that you can count. The relative unease that it brings, the desire to fill it up as soon as it empties itself in the new time, unacknowledged, unremembered, unseen. You want to push through the mass of lethargy that you think has surrounded you, but the only action that you can breed is an escape from the questions, the doubt is all that escapes rather than haunting you to another sleepless night. You wrestle with the question, juggle with it for a while, but then you pronounce the fatal word futile. That thinking is futile when so much remains to be done is born at that moment, that boredom is another lost opportunity to wriggle in another word on empty spaces of paper, that tedium is just a laziness that you have reluctantly cultivated, a cloak that you need to shed. The longing that comes, the anticipations that could not be bred, all this is desired to be shed, for reflection demands a pause that you are all ready to sacrifice, for you are at the mercy of speed that you can never fathom, nor match but merely surrender to. You are always haunted by your own abilities, and tormented by your own lacks that this speed feeds on, that you are not enough nor in an unedited time, nor in the edited time of your pause.