Okay, only 5 minutes. Okay, what is coming to mind. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. ________. Only having 5 minutes is hitting me, me– but I can't think of anything. nothing. nothing is coming to mind time, time, time! Time is ticking. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. I have become aware of my mortality. It is setting in. Am I wasting time writing this? Each second is worth more than anything in the world. Time is a resource and I'm wasting it. No! I like–I love writing. I'm scared to do it, but I need to write. I want to create, so time spent writing is time spent well. Even if it's not used to create, but thoughts like this are fine so many topics covered. When will 5 minutes be over. it’s a lot longer than I thought. I can feel time’s pressure loom over me. It's heavy. It's suffocating. It's daunting standing in thinking about time. The one master that erode all things physical and mental and we are all bound by it. It is the master of all things. Time beats rock, paper, and scissors. Jesus Christ! Even he can’t win.

five minutes to write my thoughts...

i'm blanking.

my thoughts are going mad every second of every day and right now i can't think of a single thing.

the song i'm listening to is great; i need to figure out how i'm going to make rent this month; what am i willing to do for money?

that's it right now.

why hasn't he texted me back. pay back because i'm constantly pushing him aside, ignoring him. i don't know why i do it.

one minute, 40 seconds to go and nothing left to say.

portugal. the man's new album is really good. i can't believe this is the first time i'm listening to full thing. there isn't enough time in the day to listen to all music i want to.

10 seconds.

this is a test i failed.