We're brought up to think about everything within the constraints of time, but what if there were no minutes, hours, days, months, years? We'd just be living, not worrying about deadlines, the beginning of the week or getting older. We would take the world as it comes and not confine ourselves to the concern of time.
It would actually be like when we were young, before we were taught what the little hand and big hand did. The sun would rise and set and our lives played out between and beyond that. As soon as time is introduced, so too is routine and the need to make time happy.
Time as an indicator doesn't seem so bad, but it's the subconscious recognition of something alongside this indication that holds us.
Now, I'm not trying to say that time is this big, evil monster... I just mean that not having to worry about time seems like such a blissful idea, like basing age on how you feel and not the number of years since your birth.
Of course we need time, or the world may just be chaos, but I guess that's why holidays are particularly splendid; we get a break from having to check our watches and schedules. We sleep until our body wakes us, and live like when we were too young to care about time.
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