And the seasons they go round and round

It is always said that time flies you are having fun, it is not true time seems to go by faster when you are preoccupied. Time moves at a steady rate, but when something ends it is hard to prove it ever really happened. Here is the thing, I remember when I was little I always, around mid October, already started my countdown to christmas. The first thing I thought every morning was one more day closer to Christmas. It could not come fast enough. Then one day I woke up and it was christmas eve, the next day it was mid February, and my tiny mind thinks, "What the fish sticks! When did Christmas happen?" Now I remember being 12 years old and thinking how great life is going to be when I turn 16, then one day I woke up and thought, much more vulgarly, "When the fuck did I turn 18." This is a bit of a tangent, but the human mind can not truly comprehend time, well time does not exist, but we can not even comprehend this thing we made up to describe the vast length of existence. I mean the word forever when really thought about should make everyone throw up. What I am saying is, like after something happens, it becomes nothing more than a memory, more condensed than what actually took place. The question is then did that ever even take place? I remember my dreams as vividly as some memories. Who is to say which is more real.