kinto

35 minutes in the mind of a Kinto


Ive always had a strange relationship with Time. Like I was born disconnected from it.

Time is a multi-faceted beast that never sleeps. Its after you, it is with you, it is in you, relentlessly bringing you closer to a big unknown which is so very hard not to fear sometimes.

What can you do in front of Time? Run? Hide? Close your eyes and pretend its not there? Can you evolve drenched in immobility or should you try to catch its pace and never lose a rythmn that was never really yours to begin with?

And what about looking back? When everything goes further away everyday, we still feel a need to hold on to memories, objects weve collected, pictures of people that are long gone, pictures of a you that never really was and will never ever be again Does it make sense to remember what you were 3 years ago? Or 10 minutes ago? And how can you be sure of what it was exactly that you were in the first place?

Time is the key to every emotion; in the long run it will numb even the most passionate and/or violent thoughts. Its like you have to defeat Time every day, showing it you dont fear it, showing it you may not let go of your lust for life so easily. Time is life, blink one time too many and here comes The End. Time doesnt care what you think of it.

Are you trying to stop Time? How desperate... It will go on without you until the day its too far gone, until one day you face the mirror and youre greeted by more grey hair than you thought youd ever have, until one day you cant pretend youre still the same and youre not so very sure youve made the most of it.

Like you, my years are accumulating in a weird maelstrom of thoughts, faces, losses, wishes or renouncements... Battles won like raging storms defeated inside unopened bottles, desire lost in the name of common incomprehension, one-second awakenings that make everything else seem petty.

All at the same Time.

Speeding in slow motion.

Fast forwarding at a snail pace.

Its all mixed up, its all mixed up, it used to be so clear.

Was it ever at all?

I feel like theres a million years inside my soul that are meant to create logic in a few given decades. How do you achieve that? How do you make sense of it all? Why would you?



Sometimes Im happy because I dont feel Time just cant seem to dread it anymore the way I used to.