One of the things that mutated heavily through the last few years of reclusion is my perception of time. Since i don't really do anything significant, don't have any sort of "normal" life, barely ever communicate with people and nothing ever happens around here (I'm repeating myself with this stuff I guess, but I might as well give a context), I've lost any sort of anchor with normal time. It passes at a completely different rate around here.
When every day is the same and sometimes one day is actually as long as two because I haven't been sleeping, you stop caring about days.
When every week is the same and events of any significance are multiple weeks away from each other, you stop caring about weeks.
Months still go by in the blink of an eye. Change of seasons is the only thing that makes me care about them. And even that has a limited extent because it's cold and rainy for 60% of the year.
Years have been the only solid measurement of time lately. And most of the stuff that happened is at least 2-3 years away from a current point.
I wonder if given long enough they'll turn into a blur too.
There. Wanted to write down my general perception of time. Maybe it's the lifestyle, maybe it's just me getting old, whatever.
some other junk