No Saturday no Wednesday nor Monday. They aren’t real. The clouds pass overhead, along with the birds and whatever else may come, and know nothing of these things. These pressures created to push things and the things they push are you and I yet we do not need to give them existence if we’d like not to. Let’s sit on a cliff and listen to the wind and watch clouds. Let’s not tell them where to blow or when they ought to stop. Let’s then look higher than the clouds, after the darkness comes, and watch the stars and realize they also do nothing with time and care not about our pressures we’ve created.