It wears out, it gets wasted and drag; always at the same time, at the same rhythm,as if it was a melody, always identical, dictated by the enclosed notes on a piece of paper.

We are afraid of it. We are afraid of letting it go. Of letting it go and by the time it is all over, realising of how little we did, how much we left ahead and how many plans we made, got unbuilt.

It´s true, time poisons.