Whats the Hurry?

I touch the stones on my ears.
They remind me of happier times.
Memories are all we have, sometimes.
We go through each day, looking for precious moments to file away as memories.
Recording away furiously,
Everything needs to be done in a hurry.
Everyone thinks they have you figured out.
Someone who knows me for ten years might still not know me.
But they want to believe they know me in ten days? A month? Two?
What is the hurry?
Why is everyone in a rush?
There is no time to rest.
I am not tired of running.
I just wish sometimes, I could walk inbetween...