Time is a tricky thing. How is it possible that half an hour sometimes can feel like eternity, when two months can fly by like a dust of wind?
In less than a week we will be sitting on a plane on our way home, back to the ordinary life. These two months have been the fastest, but also the slowest ones that I have experienced. That's how time works on Gunilla. One moment the seconds seem like they have frozen and the next you hardly manage to blink before the seconds have turned to hours.
Time always flies by in different speed depending on what you are doing, but why it gets so much more obvious on this boat is because the contrast on what we are doing is much more harsh here. It's pretty clear that to clean the garbage room in your mind takes longer, much longer, than to sit with your friend on deck at the front of the ship in the sunset. Not to mention when you are free from having watch, and before you even realize it you have to be ready to work again.
It's a hard thing, to tame something that is out of your control. Because time always does the opposite of what you want, goes slow when you want it to go fast and the other way around when you want time to stop. The last thing is almost even more disturbing, because even though I know you can't freeze time that's exactly what I have wanted to do many times during this trip, to capture the perfect moment forever. Sadly you can't collaborate with time, it does its own race, you just have to accept it.
So, it's now 5 and a half day left of this trip. One part of me hopes for the rest of the time to go really slow so this unreal trip never comes to an end, but the other part knows that if that would be the case it would indirectly mean that the last time would *sorry* suck.
I know that everyone is going to do the best of these last days, so that's why I probably will be sitting on the airplane in 5 days wondering for myself where the last time disappeared.