That a process requiring five minutes becomes elongated to forty minutes,
every day, sometimes twice a day, seven days a week.
When you reach your deathbed,
will you look back on these minutes?
Sum them together,
determine just how many hours and days and weeks and months and years they represent,
years which could have been joyful,
and purposeful,
and productive,
but instead were thrown away,
without thought,
as if they had no value?
People die.
I want those years back.
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