It’s an odd thing, really.
Time in and of itself is endless, infinite. It’s the fourth dimension. Things in time- or rather, being timed, to say the least- are anything but. People waste away their days spending too much time, too little time. Focusing too much on time, too little.
But every now and then, there will be a person or group of persons, who don’t have the time for that, as ironic as it may sound. These are the people who are limited but refuse to limit themselves. These are the people who have a goal, a wish, an ambition, one where time is their greatest enemy, but refuse to acknowledge that. They know time is slowly catching up to them, but they refuse to let it deter them or spoil their hope and joy, however temporary. They do whatever, whenever. They go about as they wish. They laugh and play and frolick and just be happy. But no matter what, there is still an end. Whether it be a deadline for an assignment, a confrontation, a discovery, or even death itself, it is inevitable. And that’s why these people are freeing themselves. Because even though they never acknowledged it, they knew it would happen.
Because although time itself is infinite, their time isn’t.