Personal Clock

For me my personal clock runs on how i’m feeling… living every moment separately and analyzing the change throughout the duration of that moment.

Today when I got back from Foundations class, I walked into my form at 11:11. I made a wish (of course) and remembered something about a talking wrist watch my father used to own. It got wet once and after that the voice had problems saying eleven. It would say “the time is… Tleven : Tleven”. This memory made me think of being home with my dad. At this time I always feel a little bit homesick.

Almost immediately after I entered my door to the time I left to go to my next class(11:11-12:14) I recorded (somewhat accidentally) me and my roommate, Elizabeth, carrying on a normal conversation (well normal to us). These are the times I’m happiest talking and giggling like middle schoolers with my best friend. I know when I don’t feel anxious about something or restless that I have spare time to just hang out in my room.

From 1:00-2:15 I sit in my brand new art history class nervously thinking “this might be actually really hard”.

At 2:30 I call Nabal Camacho. “I need a ride to Tinker Town…. you have a car and I have the laziness. We can make this work”. He agrees to pick me up at 3:30. At 3:26 I’m sitting outside with Elizabeth smoking a cigarette. We both agree to quit smoking after this cigarette… didn’t we say that yesterday? I pay close attention to the time it takes to Elizabeth to smoke her cigarette and the time it takes me. I notice the slow burning paper making interesting designs until the ash shows through and I realize what I’m putting in my body. I think this might be it! It’s 4:00 and still no Nabal… he calls right as my battery is about to die… he fell asleep. I didn’t mind that much as it was very nice outside and I was enjoying just sitting and listening. Being engulfed in time but not afraid of it.

From 4:56 to 7:20 I work on another assignment for Foundations (COLOR). I get frustrated as to how something so simple as a color wheel can be so difficult to make.

From 7:34 to 9:30 I sit in a very awkward situation with a group of friends and at 9:37 I lose this group of friends. How could a day so simple and fairly nice end so shitty? I’m confused as I think about what just happened and how fast that moment came and left me that I had no time to analyze it. I literally have nothing to say about this.

And now at 11:55 I feel the soft sheets on my beg beckoning me to come and have a lie down. I nod my head trying to stay awake, still trying to understand the troubling issue I had dealt with a few hours earlier. And (11:57 I took a break to brush my teeth…12:02, i’m back) now I’m going to lay me down. This is my favorite time of the day… for in my sleep time seems suspended and I feel a good kind of emptiness that can be cleansing. Goodnight all, goodnight Alfred, goodnight Elizabeth and goodnight moon.