Time is funny, not in the comical, humorous kind of way, but rather , intriguing and peculiar way.
The alarm clock goes off. I've been asleep, for what seems to be an eternity. How many hours has it been? My eyes struggle in the intense morning rays that soak the room , as they focus from the haze, it catches the radio clock on the bedside table . It shows half past 6.
The alarm clock goes off. I've been asleep, for what seems to be an eternity. How many hours has it been? My eyes struggle in the intense morning rays that soak the room , as they focus from the haze, it catches the radio clock on the bedside table . It shows half past 6.
"Fuck." , I mutter to myself.
What does half past 6 signify, I cannot help but wonder. It's always 6:30 when I wake, too often for it to be a random occurrence, or just coincidental.At least I know there's a trend, but why, I cannot say. Will I ever discover the meaning behind it? I can't say for certain, but I do intent to find out. I need to find out, with every passing day, I feel as if I'm losing myself.
Every passing day, a part of me is lost , unsure, it feels as.. as if I am running again, but from what? Why won't the dreams stop, I am tired. Could they be demons from my past coming to haunt me? I am unsure, unsure of everything.
Posts
