interludes
in our endless attempts to tame the wild essence of time, the calendar stands as both a testament to human order and a quiet mockery of our existential limits. each neatly drawn box represents an effort to capture a fleeting moment, yet reality, in its ever-unfolding unpredictability, resists such rigidity.
beneath its structured rows and columns lies the chaotic, deeply personal experience of living ~ a dance of emotions, memories, and surprises that refuse to be confined. as we mark meetings and birthdays, we are reminded that while time can be divided into tidy containers, the true measure of life exists in the fluid, often chaotic spaces between the printed dates.
by embracing the tension between structure and spontaneity, we come to see the calendar not as a master of time, but as a charmingly flawed human invention—an attempt to impose order on an inherently unpredictable cosmos.