My head has emptied.
Time now is just a succession monotonous days.

I had a thought last night/this morning at 7:13AM as I tried to combat the dizziness and fall to sleep. Clinging to my sheets, I thought, "Eight hours of sleep is one third of a day." One third. That's a meaty slice of the pie. I don't want to think that we sleep a third of our lives away, buried in the traumas and elations of a free and stretching subconscious. Completely at the will of our own repressed brains, we live a third of our lives in bed.