10am. This very morning.
Just had a coffee, as per usual. Casually going through my emails, deleting anything that looks important. Anything to get out of the crushing boredom that makes up the day. For you see, time runs slower here. There is a thicker kind of reality, as if the second hand on the Universe Clock is struggling through treacle. I feel as though today I have lived a thousand days, each one one the same, unpunctuated by night. A stagnant hell from which the only hope of escape is from time itself; the enemy, grim custodian to this eternal prison. Then, suddenly, a gift from a greater power. A pressure, then writing pain in my guts, a solitary light of sensation cutting through this dark abyss of numbness and boredom like a scythe. I knew what I had to do.

Anyway basically I went and done a massive shit. Now I'm bored again.
(brutal stack Raided the beeves of Apollo on, Thu 20 Dec 2012, 14:16, Reply)