It's another one of those days. It's late... very late. I know I should have gone to sleep a long time ago and that I should have been asleep for many hours by now. But I feel that my day is yet to be fulfilled, to be realized, that there are still so many things I can achieve with the time I have left before it's too late.

So I keep a running clock and a rapid eye movement on the time to ensure that I make the most of those short lasting hours before satisfaction settles within. But that satisfaction never comes. Many hours have already passed by and the only thing I was able to do was watch time runaway, escape, and my satisfaction went down the drain, time was lost.

Tags: prose