And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

t.s. eliot: "the love song of j alfred prufrock"

is definitely by far one of my favorite poems ever. because whenever i decide to read it again, it always pesters me with the question, "will there be time for me?" time for me to figure out what i need, what i want, what i adore, what i need to feel over and over again at the silent murmurs of each and every day to remind me of my sanity. time for me to drop down on my knees and hold out my soul only to have it shattered. time to get my heart broken. time to drink success. time to taste bitter failure. time for me to understand what it is that keeps me going every day, time for me to order a cafe americano instead of a vanilla latte. time for me to buy my parents a winter house in mammoth. time for me to make my own money, do something i completely love, live with the best friends in the entire world, enjoy the life i create. time for me to fall in and out of love, let the magical swirls of infatuation and obsession capture my heart, and the beauty of being entangled in my lover's arms overwhelm me.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.