I'm sitting here, on a bench in a hospital room in Omaha, looking out at the city and wondering why time never stays the same. Time is supposed to be a constant, always moving at the same pace. Why does it fly? Why does it stop? How can it do those things, and yet still be moving at the same old rate it always does at the same time?
Cars fly by constantly on Dodge Street, so I know there are people out there living their lives. Someone hit the pause button in my life. All the things I thought I would be doing, they aren't getting done. The important thing is that progress is being made, despite the halt of time in my universe. I look out at the bushy, broccoli-like tops of the trees that fill the horizon, and think...they must know how I feel.