Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock on my wall is mocking me.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Seconds of my life wasted, rapidly turning to minutes.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock knew what it was doing. The more I focus on time passing, the more time will pass. The vicious cycle I fight against night and night again. Several cycles like this were happening. I've found that the more you try not to think, the more you think about trying not to think. The silence in your mind gets louder, until you're more irritated than when your mind was racing. Thinking is great and all. I love thinking about things at the proper time. Now is not the proper time, wrapped in the warm woolen embrace of my blankets, when I'd rather allow my exhausted mind to have its rest.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Good, I thought time had stopped passing. My clock is always there to remind me how important time is. I wish I had more of it. I would have more of it if my mind would calm itself and allow me to sleep. Some nights I elect to use the time I know I'll waste wisely, doing something fun, reading, things like that. Other nights, more stubborn nights, I try to fight my mind. Whenever you fight yourself, you win. You're the only contestant. It's hard to lose.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
I've tried everything. I've counted sheep. I've drank warm milk. Maybe this is punishment of some sort.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
But for what? What have I done? I know I can be rather callous, cold in nature, but that's only to people who I'm not close with. Some are shy, preferring to simply not talk to strangers. I employ a tactic which allows me to talk to strangers, but stop if I don't feel like continuing. My only problem is that I don't consider anyone close enough to be friends with them. I've tried opening up to people, but I end up wasting my time.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
This cruel, metallic noise rings throughout my room. It knows that I can hear it, and it knows that I wish not to hear it. That is the nature of time. It matches on, whether you like it or not. It stops for no one. It cares for no one. In a sense, I guess I'm like time, marching on no matter the thoughts of others. If time is like me, however, then it cares what people think. A lot. Yet it
doesn't change. It doesn't listen. If time is like me, it's too stubborn to invest any time in improvement, time that could be spent accomplishing something different. More worthwhile.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Whether I like it or not, time will always be there. Always moving forward, destroying all within its path. Such as what I thought would be a relaxing night when I finally got to sleep. I have not slept in two days. I have not eaten in one. I wasn't motivated enough to get up for hours. That's an alarming trend beginning to emerge, an increasing lack of motivation to do things. Things that I need to do, like eat, or get out of bed, or talk to people. People are too much effort. I wish they didn't have ulterior motives, selfish desires. I wish that I could trust someone; anyone, but due to humanity's selfish and manipulative manner, I find myself unable to. It's a bit bizarre. I find it difficult to trust, but easy to love.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
What is love anyway? Is love real, or is it something humans invented to feel fulfilled? I have felt love, but it only ends up hurting. Maybe that's what love is. Pain that feels good enough to lure you in. Pain that feels good enough to make you believe it's not going to be like last time, or the time before, only to end up worse. Is pain humanity's purpose? Were we built to feel pain? Our instincts, our so-called inner decision-maker, seems to lead us nowhere but downhill. Emotions in general tend to do that. They make you feel something, and feeling clouds judgement. Feeling obscures facts. I wish I didn't have to feel anything. It wouldn't be much of a change, but it would improve my life drastically.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
To think, you must first feel compelled to do so. I guess I just wish I could feel without it
blurring my ability to reason, though I know it's wishful thinking. I know that I am doomed to be burdened with emotions, for them to betray me, only to disappear, waiting for a rare, tranquil second when they can strike. Waiting for a moment when you feel like life might start to improve. But it never does.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock grows impatient.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
It's waiting for me to swallow my pride and admit defeat. Admit that it won. But I refuse, foolishly trying to rest my heavy eyes once more. Stubbornness is my defining characteristic. I refuse to let anyone or anything beat me without a fight. I refuse to budge on my opinions. I think this makes me generally unlikeable due to my uncooperative nature. But I just can't change.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
A wave of sadness rushes over me. Then dread, then guilt, then anxiety. I realize now that I am the reason I'm so lonely. I'm unlovable. It's my fault.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Bottle it up, I internally yell. I yell at myself in my mind. It's the only way I'll listen. I shouldn't care. I have too much going for me to feel this way. Besides, even if I decide to let these feelings stay, they won't accomplish anything. I might as well ignore them and salvage the humanity left in me. It's what I've done before, and I'm here to think about it.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
I wait for something to happen.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
I wait, demoralized yet unwavering.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Time defies me, though I suppose I have no power over it. I know I'll lose the fight, but it could at least be respectful about it.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
I know the clock can't help it. It has no idea why my brain decides to keep me awake through these sleepless nights. Perhaps it's a sign, an indication of a higher force trying to reach my subconscious. Or perhaps it's the work of an evil spirit, wanting revenge on humanity; after all, we can be quite cruel. I hope it's the latter, for at least then I could sleep.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
If only I hadn't been born, I would have no problem falling asleep.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
No, it isn't fair to say that. I was born for a reason, I just can't figure out what it is.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
I'm tired. I wish my body and mind could work together for once. I wish my mind worked when I needed it to, like when I begin to fall in love. Anyone who shows me kindness is, by my fault, received as a potential love. Maybe because I crave love, or crave kindness. It's both. I have received so little of both that I feel like anyone who shows me a little of either is a godsend. The lack of positive emotions shown towards me are my fault as well. It's my cold, unnervingly calm and seemingly unemotional and uncaring manner that scares everyone off. But I'm too scared to change. Too scared to betray myself further.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
That's weird. The clock sounds different. I feel different.
Tick. Tick.
Is time getting slower, or am I moving faster?
Tick.
Am I moving at all? Is time real?
Am I real?
