A Winter's Tale

Some artists and physicists,
working their wares in metal and acrylic and quantum theory,
build Time from ceaseless moments,
an ever-present path we dance upon,
an array of immutable seconds waiting for us to step into them,
our past, permanent and passed.

And while their construction pilfers our choices from us,
filches our will like coins from our pockets,
I find a small comfort in believing
that a series of moments breathe
where our fingers still entwine amidst our laughter.

And here I thought I could glean some insight into what I should be doing with my life.

From countessmary, my ( What is your Perfect Major Quiz results )

ETA: And according to this test, batnandu's supposition that I'm mildly autistic may very well be true. I rate an above-average 30 autism quotient.

And one more link for my fellow insomniacs...

Benadryl doesn't work either.

This waking up at 6:00 AM crap is really getting fucking old.

Don't really help when you're stomach is doing backflips in the morning.