Thursday April 20, 2023 (Journal Entry)
I sit. I stare at the clock on the stove. I notice a minute has gone by. An almost perfect minute of next to nothing. I sip my coffee and decide to write about that minute. The minute that even now I can’t remember. There’s nothing wrong with my mind, time can be fleeting, sometimes it’s not even there. My gaze shifts. I watch the cat drink out of a bowl in the kitchen sink. I wonder what today will be like. How many minutes will I recall at the end of the day? It doesn’t matter really one way or the other. They are all good. Every minute of every day is good. They are never the same but they are all good. Because they are all mine.