Runny noses and counting

It's funny... This passage of time. The way it slips through our fingers like sand. Between small cracks in our minds this time eats away slowly until we don't realize how much is gone....how much is left. The differences that paint our lives stain the edges and bluer the changes, stunted "growth" pains us and leaves us hollow, aching for the comfort of similarity. How quickly time flies in the face of it all, while the meaningless existence clicks on everlasting.