Sunrise
Sunset

High noon
High moon

Day night
Dark light
Time becomes a blur

Like a stray inkblot
Smeared across the page of life
Sometimes the offending mark bleeds through to the next page
Maybe the one after that

It all starts when the ticking stops
The clock stops tapping its rhythmic beat
And life is played in free time for as long as the eyes are open

When Time's dripping faucet turns on
And the steady drops become a constant stream
It's pointless to count
Just question
"what time is it?"
"What does '3' mean?"
"When does 'late' become 'early'?"
"How many days has it been?"
"What does it matter?"

Eventually the time of day
Is only roughly told
By how many "normal people" are out and about as well

Delirium comes on like the darkness after "that bright thing" falls off the sky
More questions
"...Did that just happen, or did I imagine it?"
"...What's going on?"
"Um... why did I come here?"
"Wait... how did I get here?"

When the dreams lose their patience
And give up on waiting for the eyes to close
Now it's dangerous
The "little things that don't quite make sense"
Get worse
And worse
Until there is no "normal"
Because there is no "reason"
And anything can happen

Now
It's time
For
Sleep

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