Can’t sleep. It feels so late and yet it’s only
913 914 915. It’s so fascinating. Time, that is.
My bed is too hot. My cheeks are flushed pink with blanket-induced fever. I suppose taking my sweatpants off would probably help, but then I may be too cold.
I can write so little in a minute. My thoughts can’t collect themselves enough to form cohesive sentences in
917 918 merely a minute.
What would the world be like if time didn’t exist? It is said that time is the 4th dimension. So what happens when we lose that?
918 919 I don’t know. Would we be frozen? Would time essentially freeze all molecules–all matter–in the universe? 919 920 would all space cease to exist because the fabric of space-time will have been destroyed?
I’m so tired but I just can’t bring myself to sleep.
920 921 It has been only 8 minures since I began writing but it feels like a millenia. I wonder where our internal concept of time comes 921 922 from? It has taken me several minutes to formulate these sentences, and yet it has taken fewer, still, for you to visually devour them.
This is just a WordDoodle. I have
922 923 no idea what I’m actually saying or if it makes any sense at all. Probably not. I have an induced fever and am running on 5 houra of sleep. I’m as good as miserably drunk.
923 924 the night is a very lonely and very boring chore 924 925 when nobody is there to spend it with you and you cannot escape to 925 926 count sheep. I just keep rubbing my hands over my face (giving myself wrinkles) while 926 927 I try to coax sleep into my buzzing neurons.
I’m kinda scared of the dark
928 929 to be honest. Ha! A legal adult scared of the dark. I hate feeling as though I think somewhere is safe, but it might actually 929 928 (I think I imagined the clock moves faster than it actually did) 928 929 be quite the opposite. That is one of my worst fears, I have come to realize. Which, 929 930 I suppose, isn’t an entirely irrational fear to have. I mean, it keeps me from wandering ignorantly into dark alleys at night.
Ohhhh my god I’m so
930 931 eternally bored right now that I might as well just watch 931 932 grass grow.
This is pretty much stream of consciousness, right now. A WordDoodle. Me hoping that my slip-of-a-tongue will somehow make sense on
932 933 paper. 933; 3×3=9; I just sneezed 3 times. 933 934 934 935; 35÷9=4; at the last
“4” mentioned I was
935 936 talking about what a boring chore the nighttime is. Nevermind. 35÷9 is not 4, and I don’t know what I’m thinking. I even used the old school finger trick for multiples of 9s.
I probably shouldn’t complain so much.
936 937 there’s nothing too special about 937 to my knowledge. There probably is, I just don’t know it. Maybe it’s a Fibonacci number 937 938 or something.
938 943 time is beginning to pick up a little, but it is still moving so incredibly slow.
I suppose I should just stop watching
943 945 the clock and start sleeping.