The Inner Monologue

Do I need time?

Time is an inverse resource. The more we try to save it, the more we lose. The more we use it — completely, fearlessly, without hesitation — the richer it becomes. To hoard time is to let it rot in the vaults of anxiety; to spend it is to keep it alive.

We speak of time as if it were money, but it behaves more like breath. It cannot be stored, only exchanged for experience. Each second withheld from living expires unused. Each moment consumed fully multiplies itself in memory, meaning, and motion.

To need time, then, is to misunderstand it. We are not running out of time; time is running through us. It is not a commodity but a current — and efficiency lies not in saving its flow, but in surrendering to it completely.

So, do I need time? Only the kind that burns. The kind that leaves nothing in reserve. The kind that proves that to use every drop of it is not waste, but wisdom.