dear muse,

you fail to see you are all visitors or gifts given to me, father time – and that you all have been placed in my care. you have also failed to see, dear muse, that i go on with or without you. if you want to remain in the inertia that my son, today, wallows in – take all the time (pardon me for speaking in the third person) you need. but know, people make things rough and difficult. i mean, eve bit the fruit first and the rest of you followed in behind her sin. with too much time (again, i apologize) on your hands – that simple bite by eve became adultery, incest and all other acts that chew on my conscience because i didn’t snuff you out when my cousin, the grim one, wanted me to. you dont see how your frolicking with my son, today, makes you responsible for your own pain and the consequences that you have to suffer. i am throwing punches? you are the one throwing punches – every time something doesnt go your way, you hit out, even at abstract me. your punches? your slothfulness. your acts of irresponsibility, immaturity, meanness, hatred and carelessness. and i have to do my job, and catch up with you. you think i like being the one to hand you over to my cousin, the grim one, when the time comes to pay for your errant ways? you think i dont have more important things to do with myself? you do not see how i try to push you away from the chaos you see as thrill. you dont see how i try to defend myself against your tempestuous tantrums when you cant have what you want. you are a lover, i am assuming this from the letter you wrote me, and you cannot see when he stays away he is telling you he needs time (again, pardon me) alone – to reflect on how you have stolen his precious moments with me when i allow him to savor the narcissism of his mind’s yearnings. you cant see he needs me for other things so he can give you a better life. you cant see he is listening to my call to do something else with me so you both can have a comfortable future on my island for those who use me wisely. when have you ever bought anything with love and loving moments? can you go to a bank and deposit love and loving moments? you blame me for your inability to take responsibility for your future. i gave you me, and you used me up wallowing in self-pity. you said i whisper in your ears, i dont whisper, i extract that which you aim to taint with your slothful ways. you think rebellion is bliss – you kick me in the teeth but you want to savor the sweet taste of success. why are you scared of moving forward in the direction i am guarding you? you want to remain still in a cuddled moment. have you seen how hurt makes you a worshipper of my older son, yesterday. he is forever scrambling onto the bandwagons of wastrels and disgruntled lovers – offering them his memory that is cramped full of wasted what ifs and the missing children of my brother, opportunity. my middle son, today, wants nothing of you but fun. maybe my youngest son, tomorrow, will have you – he is full of optimism, him. for his sake, i will spare you your punishment and give you a bit more of me. use me well if you want to secure my son, tomorrow.

inspired by the urgings of morgan byers,

father time.