I'll be 35 this year, and looking back on the last 3 years, I have to question the point of it all... I'm single and have a career that has effectively come to a standstill, mostly because of economic factors beyond my control.
When I think of all of my time wasted by other people, at work and at home, and all of the other useless institutions and their various representatives that impinge upon my general well-being, as though they had some fundamental right to do so...
Not so long back I knew exactly where I was going and how I was going to get there.
Now there's no plan other than that which meets day to day needs. I find that when your life changes so spectacularly that you have difficulty adjusting to it, you experience a strange distortion of time: for weeks and weeks nothing of note happens, then all of a sudden you think WTF?! as the realisation that almost another year of your time here has vanished, then time seems to get faster and faster until you sink back into the now/present/moment, leaving ideas such as past/future free to amass fresh ammunition to scourge your awareness the next time you are least expecting it.
More so in the last 12 months I have grappled with understanding why it is seen as acceptable and proper for people to spend their lives in pointless and fruitless endeavour of careers and families and all of the other social imperatives deemed a requirement for life. Trouble is, all of these things take up so much of your life that when they are gone you are left wondering where all the time in the world (for you) has gone, when you hold up to the light the pitiful results of your labour for inspection.
There's a certain dejected bitterness for time lost and a fear of the ever accelerating time to come - when you line these up with your accomplishments to date and your hopes for the future... well, I feel the pull of the undertow and consider the merit of continuing to swim against the current or the choice of letting it take me where it will. I cannot say that I find either option entirely satisfactory.
On a slightly darker note - I'm not afraid of not being here anymore, but I think the process of that change from being, to not being, involving pain and suffering is not an enviable one. However once you're dead, there's FA you or anyone else can do about it, so what the hell? Which circular thinking brings me neatly back to how much I detest other people and organisations monopolising my precious existence with lots of stuff they think is important and mostly for their benefit, not mine. How I hate them all
Perhaps time and your perception of its passing is only relevant when you feel your life is lacking that key something that works on a deeper emotional level of fulfilment, therefore, you only really begin to notice its passage when you are not otherwise engaged with meaningful experience elsewhere.