I will do a lot to regain a the lost, life its have made me wish I can rewin the hand of time and stop it a little bit and make the most judicious moments out of it. So if time freeze for one hour and nothing is moving, I would won't hated to redirect my for steps. Thought I will feel some way of fears.
But If time truely froze for one hour, and I stood alone in motion while the world stopped, I imagine my heart would race, my mind would burst with possibility, and I would seize that moment like a gift because I have regrets, wounds, dreams waiting to be awakened.
I wake up just before dawn. The city is quiet. No car horns, no footsteps, no birdsong. But in my mind, life pulses loud. I glance at my phone but the screen shows every app frozen. The world outside my window is motionless: a car parked mid-turn, laundry suspended in the wind, people paused in midstride. In my chest, a battle roars: despair, longing, urgency.
If time froze now, I would first run not away, but toward the things I lost. I would gallop across rooftops, jump fences, cross streets. I would retrieve the years I pushed aside, the dreams I shelved, the hopes I whispered and abandoned. I would walk into the university halls empty, echoing and collect my past self, that student who believed he could do more than just survive school.
I would go to the lab and work with my hands. I would turn on machines, pick up tools, repair the broken edges of my ambitions. In every corner of classrooms, I’d plant seeds: ideas, side hustles, sketches, notes. I’d whisper to myself: Don’t wait. Begin now. I’d grab notebooks and stack them. I’d draw plans in the dust of frosen floors. I’d pick up my art, my skills, my passions dust them, polish them, breathe life into them.
Then I’d hurry to the marketplace, the busy streets, where life is paused. I’d walk into stores, open cash registers, rearrange goods, test what I’m capable of. I’d see the faces of people mid-smile, mid-walk. I’d take time to forgive, to reconcile, to speak words I never said. I’d step into houses, knock on doors, remove the walls between us reach hands to those I love but pushed away, whisper apologies in the silence.
In that hour, I’d steal all the “lost hours” back. The time I spent stressing about grades instead of building something. The hours I slept too much, or stayed silent instead of trying. The hours I watched others go forward while I wondered if I belonged. I’d steal them back, mold them into something new.
But time will unfreeze. And when things move again, the world will resume: birds will sing, cars will accelerate, people will march forward. But I will be changed. I will return with a war inside me, with a promise etched in my bones: I will act. I will no longer wait until after school. I will no longer let the burden of regret paralyze me. In that frozen hour, I will sketch a schedule for my life, pick three small tasks I must complete in the next week, and vow to begin immediately.
I will carry out that hour’s momentum into reality. I will upskill, hustle, experiment. I will launch a small project. I will share my work openly. I will ask for feedback. I will fail, I will learn, I will grow. Because in that hour of time-freeze, I realised that the gap between dreams and reality is not time, but courage. And I’ve stolen back that courage.
Afterwards, life will feel more urgent. Every minute will hum with meaning. I will not squander hours again. I’ll live as though time could freeze again at any moment and that knowledge will sharpen me. I’ll measure progress not in grand leaps, but in daily steps: improving, iterating, daring.
If time froze for one hour, I’d use it to reclaim myself, to awaken what I put to sleep, to hand myself a new beginning. And when the world sputtered back into motion, I’d run run into that unfolding day, catching up, forging ahead, refusing to look back again.
Because i have lost time and hours without fulfilling my dreams, my felt purposes, that inner me, Of making life solids. I will gather all my lip holes, waiting like a time bomb when the motions will take it place again.