2023-12-26 23:00:01
I don’t like being in between. Between arguments? Ungrateful. Between jobs? Unpaid. Between chairs? Uncomfortable. But I like to be between the years. In the no man’s land between the calendars. At the back what was, at the front what is to come. In between, what doesn’t have to be. space. A place that isn’t a place, squeezed in between, just there so that the rooms don’t touch each other. Or the years. Placeholder for empty hours. Nobody has time because there is finally enough time. And everything that comes only comes in the way.
The year ends with good wishes and begins with good resolutions. In between, nothing has to be good, nothing directed at others or yourself, the time depends on me. I’ll set the time. Rightly so. Legally. Can finally set it up. When the first snow has long since fallen and gray has not yet faded into gruesome. When everything that lies in between is just between book pages. Or between steps. Intermediate steps that don’t have to go anywhere. Placeholder for empty paths.
The festivals fell because they had to be celebrated. Afterwards it was vacant, free for temporary use, of which soon there would be nothing left to remember. Shortly before the rezoning and long following it. Time that comes and finally stays, just for a very short time, before it goes once more. From which nothing remains that you don’t take with you. A transition over days that would otherwise pass by. Which stands out and floats above. Or just standing next to it. I like to be in between once a year.
Between rooms that I have left and have not yet entered.
Between paths that I have taken and that I have not yet paved.
Between resolutions that became goals and hopes that I buried.
Between mistakes that made you learn and tears that made you laugh.
Between all of this it becomes quieter, it becomes quiet between the years.
Do you want to know how you can use the time between the years? We’ll give you a few tips for the Christmas holidays.
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#cents #time #years
