Time...

Time.
So real, yet so intangible.
We measure it by our standards, the mechanization of time into different units marked by the contraption known as the clock, or by the rising and setting of the sun, by the changing of the various seasons, so on and so forth.
We managed to 'capture' time and tamed it into a domesticated servant that will reply you which position it is in now.
But have we really captured time?

Hell, NO.

Time remains ever elusive, playing hide and seek with those who need it the most, running quicker than usual when one is pressed for it, slowing down drastically when one begs it to move on and spare the agony of waiting.
If time was an entity, it'll be a fucking Joker in my case.

How many fucking times in my life does it need to remind me that I was either too late, or too early, and years later come back to haunt me with a sneering leer and an equally awful dance/jig of victory?

Fate it seems, has an affinity with time.
The interactions of these ethereal beings have conspired to make the course to true love(for me that is) run less than smooth sometimes.
Heck, its bleddy treacherous at times come to think about it.
Fate paved out the path, time just needed to make sure I miss the turnings, like how I almost missed the turn to your house again eh. Such irony.

Pardon the ranting and the raving.
But surely a man who's sh*ting his guts out in the middle of an early morning with no sleep and a weird reminiscing session should be given some liberty to let the tongue runneth loose. Not to mention the 2 bottles of Heinek*n and some weird concoctions like Apricot Brandy(with 7-Up) and Sour Apple Margarita.

So I beseech you.
Time.
Please.
Don't fucking play me out again...