Clock with Blue Wing by Marc Chagall
I am convinced I can control time. By ‘control time’, I mean I obsess over it constantly, and it gives me an illusion that I have any sort of influence over it. I need a sense of control so big I can control the passage of time, that’s the only thing that can make me feel safe.
If I have somewhere to be at 5pm, I obsess over it from the second my eyes open. I fixate on it. Do I have enough time, am I running out, will I make it on time, am I keeping up, if I work hard enough I will be able to influence the turning of the planets, if I work hard enough I can make this natural process go faster, if I stop obsessing over it something will fall out of order and the structure of the universe will collapse. I never seem to be at the right moment, I am either ahead or behind When everything feels precarious, my death-grip extends. I reach out and try to suffocate the realm of time and space that I am in, and take responsibility for every second of it. I want to grasp for it, have a deep knowledge and command over every aspect of it, or something terrible might happen, like it has before.