On days when the sun sets early, I find myself pondering where the time went.
At what point did the supposed 24 hours in a day turn into only 10?
I sit and ask myself, where has the time gone?
On days when the sun sets early, I find my productivity turns into procrastination.
My desire to be "successful" dwindles and suddenly my only desire is to leave my bed before my mind gets bad again.
By then it's too late and my mind plays its own fiddle until my thoughts don't exist and I'm left with these riddles.
At what point did the supposed 24 hours in a day turn into 10?
On days when the sun sets early, I feel my body begin to shut down.
I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.
I feel myself sinking under the water.
And no matter how hard I try I simply cannot muster the strength to pull myself up.
Instead, I get a mouth full of water in return.
On days when the sun sets early, I find myself pondering where the time went.
At what point did the supposed 24 hours in a day turn into only 10?
I sit and ask myself, where has the time gone?
And how many more days until the sun doesn't set early?
How many more days until my procrastination turns into productivity?
Until my desire to be successful returns?
How many more days until my thoughts are my thoughts and not these silly fucking riddles?
How many days until my body doesn't shut down?
How many more fucking days until I will feel like myself?
Oh, how I hate it when the sun sets early.
Written by: Gabrielle Unger-Branson
Illustrated by: Gabrielle Unger-Branson
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