#0039. Time is my only real obsession. Time is at the root of all of my fears. The order of it intrigues me and gives me comfort, but I hate the inevitability of it. I hate that it gets to impose its order on me. I hate the idea of a bedtime, or a time to rise. Out in the darkness, I take great comfort in lit windows and all night diners. They are not my kin, I loathe the night owls as much as I do anyone else. But I appreciate that they are there, as unbound by clocks as I want to be.
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