The Trouble is Time

The trouble is time

The trouble will always be time. There’s just never going to be enough of it. 

I don’t like when people say “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” because I like to think that death will be the next great adventure. 

If it’s not though, I’d like to be so tired at the end of this life that I’m ready for a rest. I’d like to have used up every minute, to feel the tired of a long day spent in the fresh air, to go to sleep exhausted after using up every bit of body and brain I have. 

I’d like to sleep the sleep of an exhausted child, having played hard, eaten too much sugar and passed out without a care in the world. 

I’d like to sleep the sleep of a day spent rock climbing in New Hampshire, where even my bones are tired, my knees ache from the shake of 250 foot climb, and my eyes are filled with the blood red of an October sunrise.

Now, to find the time.