Words

Time passes in an insane hastiness and at the same time it stands still.
It falters, it grows, it expands, it does somersaults in a space that possibly does not even exist. It condenses and imposes itself and even if I sometimes would prefer to deliberate myself from it, it tactlessly goes through me and makes me shudder. The shudder either goes by and it remains a short- or long-lasting stillness, or it gains in size and intensity and tortures the whole space-time-continuum around me. After one instant a second one grows, which passes into a third one. One shuddering, two shuddering, three shuddering.

One might think that an instant would have a clear beginning and an end due to its nature. Eye opens, picture enters, eye closes. Framed by the vigorous blink of the eyelids. But an instant can seem endless. Then, a one instant long period of time is filled with such an intensity that everything stops and nothing passes.