SCABs

Stop The Clock – By @rolloskinner

Rollo Skinner

By Rollo Skinner

 

Stop The Clock

 

Go on kids, run out and play. You have 10 minutes.’

Where’s the fucking fun in that?

As children our concept of time is intangible, an adult abstraction.

 

Kids keep playing till they stop. They’re playing till they drop.

They’re playing 5, 10, 30 minutes later than they’re allowed.

Squeezing the minutes.

Soldiers, medics, explorers or ninjas, none of whom are concerned about the ticking of the invisible clock.

Then at 5 or 6 we learn the clock.

But just as we befriend the clock, just as we own him, we suddenly realise that he owns us. He is not our friend. He is the ticking countdown to our inevitable end.

 

It’s 4.30am and I’m up writing (at Robyn’s suggestion).

In the closeness of night.

Time has no hold on me.

For here time is borrowed.

I have beaten the clock.

 

Reflecting on PB1, we didn’t leave enough time to play. As I’m sure is the case for the majority of the year.

How can you be creative when you’re up against the clock?

How can you conjure up that childish freedom?

How can you stop the clock?

 

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