The oddity that is time

Ok, so first of all, I'm sorry. I completely lied, and didn't post again last night. I really did have plans to, but my roommate turned on Taxi Driver and I couldn't resist watching it.

Anyway, over the last few weeks, I have begun to realize how much I am going to miss NCSA when I leave at the end of the year. I realize that I complain day in and day out about how annoying the high school life staff is and how awfully similar to a prison this school truly is, but this complaining does not mean that I dislike being here. When I first got here at the beginning of the year, it was great to see everyone again, and it felt like my senior year in high school was going to be a slow, yet fun one. Well, here it is, two or three weeks before the end of winter term, and I don't feel like I have been at school for more that a couple of weeks.

What is really strange, though, is that as much as I want the year to slow down, I constantly catch myself watching the clock during every class and counting down the days until the weekend arrives. In every class, on every day of the week, week in and week out, I half-listen to the teacher and half think about how much I wish it were Friday instead of Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday. When I get these oh-so-frequent thoughts, they don't seem at all out of place or in direct contrast to my feelings with respect to my time left at the school of the arts.

Time is such a weird thing. It is a steady, forward moving stream that doesn't slow or quicken. It can be shrunken down to the size of a watch, yet is far more expansive and complex than can ever be understood. Why then, does time always feel as if it is moving contrary to how one desires? In English at 1:48pm, time moves at less-than-quarter-pace. But, when I'm just sitting in the snack bar, laughing with people, the minutes tick by faster that seems possible.

Such an abstract thing as time shouldn't be able to cause so much concern. It's not something tangible, and the only way of measuring it is by assigning to it an arbitrary, circular order. The big ideas, like death and existence don't really concern me in the least. How then is it that simply thinking about time always makes me sad?

I'm going to miss it here so incredibly much when the year has ended. I just hope that it doesn't continue to go by so fast.

Damn, I wish it were Saturday.