daylight savings time: what a relief.
who ever thought that light at least interrupted my sleep pattern to a certain manner? it did, apparently, and i feel less lethargic waking up to the rising sun of the east coast. times have changed, and its minutes did fly by so fast. the timepiece keeping track of my palm’s life line is ticking, and there is only so much that i can do in a second.
in a second? why a second?
‘what can one do in a second?’ you ask. in a second your red-eye flight may hit the ground, disintegrating the flesh of your unannointed and weary soul before every piece of your flesh hits the early morning news. in a second, at least thousands in this world have already earned another million dollars or euros while turning their lamps off, or picking their noses while they snore in their sleep. in a second, several years’ worth of trust can be broken by one single thought, leading to a string of deadly retaliation that will make a history of acquainted decadence.
in a second… yes, anything can happen in this world with a single second. yet time ticks for everyone in different ways.
i woke up to the morning mist of spring air. my roommate cracked the window open of our 11th floor bedroom. he wasn’t feeling the reused heat circulating around a typical boys’ room. it was about ten minutes before 6am, and i just felt like waking up with a sudden burst of energy. i may not be roy walford doing his caloric restriction experiments, but somehow the change of season tweaked the constant calibrations of a natural biosphere. a biosphere within the city. my own biosphere. maybe ours. daylight savings time was in full effect. 2001.
i felt like breaking a sweat and it’s almost midnight. the media & marketplace section of the journal read a staggering one-liner: identity thieves organize. who cares? tomorrow’s friday, and i’m about to get another doze of clocked-back days within the next few months.
gotta luv em d-savings.