Just a thought

time, per se, stretches on into eternity and is thus infinite, yet we never seem to have enough of.

but it is meaningless to talk about time per se. while there may be an infinite amount of time, we are miniscule vessels which can only hold so little of it such that we never have enough of it to use for our purposes. our lives are like a brief spark of light in the infinite darkness of an eternity before birth and inexhaustible time after death. upon what shall this tiny spark shine? what will this tiny spark illuminate?