Isn't it interesting how Time doesn't really "pass"? Time simply is. It sits there, unmoving yet unyielding — like a landscape — while we stroll, sprint, and stumble through the vastness of it.
We often imagine Time as something that flows, something that slips through our fingers, but perhaps it's more like terrain: endless, constant, neutral and indifferent.
We chart our lives across it, measure change against it, and yet it remains untouched. We grow older, we move on, we leave things behind — but Time stays. It doesn't rush to outrun us or linger to comfort us.
And maybe that’s why it feels so elusive — because we expect it to move with us, and yet, it's motionless. Time doesn’t pass. We do.