“This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.” – Fight Club

I don’t really sleep all that much, but when I do, it feels like I’ve been sleeping for days, when in reality it won’t be more than a couple of hours. It’s during these hours that I’m lying in bed awake, staring at the crack between my curtains, that time seems to stop all together. I’ll look at my clock, 2:48. Head back down on my pillow, I’ll begin to think. I’ll rationalise things that have happened in my life. I’ll make goals for myself, goals I’ll never manage to achieve, but goals all the same. I’ll think about the universe and my purpose in life. Rolling over onto my side, I’ll worry about my future, worry that I’m wasting my life. I look back at the clock again, 3:04. This happens most nights, the monotony.
There are some people that say that sleep is just a waste of time, that you’re wasting your life dozing the minutes and hours away. Lying in bed unable to sleep feels the same, but even more wasteful.



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