When I find myself trapped within the madness of this unstoppable time, I try to slow it down. It does not really work, because time is the great illusion; the speed of nothing at all, matters hardly at all. Still, it helps to block out the light of the inevitable, indomitable march of our minds and close the eyes. Sometimes there is a peace only found in complete darkness. The ephemeral things that time has seemingly carried away in its own abyss come back, and these things — whether they are the essence of lost loves or simply memories of the same — remind me that beauty is ephemeral, a function of time, but also like life itself: a continual renewal, the best way forward.