Restless

Waiting

For

Time

To

Pass.

Is terrible.

I don’t want to think. I don’t want people to tell me I have to think. I think I can’t not think no matter how hard I try. I think therefore I can’t not think. I think I’d rather die. Oh well.

No matter how empty the room is, or how silent the air is, I hear shouting fill my head. Will you not rest? Will you not let me rest? Let me rest!

LET ME REST.

Silence isn’t serene, and stillness has stopped soothing my sanity, ceasing my sleeping, so supposing I somehow solve the scintillating light that fills my sight and kills the darkest night, assuming my encounter with it to be so serendipitous, though there is nothing serene about this scoundrel of a presence, I shall see the spill of its essence, and let it slowly die! Leave me alone. Let me rest. Please. Whoever you are, your anonymous droning is monotonous, and, oh, can I find something else synonymous with “obnoxious” to describe your endless meddling with my conscience? Leave me alone! Let me rest!

LEAVE ME ALONE. LET ME REST.

Another minute passes in my restless eternity.

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