Clock ticking and numbers running. I am sitting here and desperately begs to stop time from aging.
Feeling so pathetic for whinning like a child; how can I possibly deal with the inevitable flow of time?
With all those deadlines and homeworks that I need to rush, I can never tell if thousands of seconds would be enough.
In every move of the clock's hand, it feels like something is fading. Something is sinking into oblivion.
Something brings me sorrow and repent. I am running out of time, left with lots of tasks to complete.
Eighty six thousand four hudred seconds is not enough. To finish assignments and write untaken notes.
To review the missedlessons and to cope up with unfilled understandings.
One thousand and four hundred forty minutes is not enough.
To write an essay with heart-engraving words. To read, to write, and to re-write.
Twenty four hours is not enough. To do all things beyond my limit.
To achieve something beyond my point. To fly into the sky without even wings to begin with.
Maybe I can rush this things and sacrifice eat and slumber. Then maybe I'll just go insane afterwards.
Drive myself into madness; crying for losing time.
I hate the world for being run by numbers. It is vile to make me suffer.
A day is not enough to do all things. But a day is surely enough to make me crazy.
When twenty four hours is not enough, I'll just sit here and write a piece on how twenty four hours is not enough.