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1.4.99 I suppose the ticking of the pocketwatch nestled comfortably in my hand soothes me because it is measured. It clicks in perfect time - an example of precision and excellence that the human mind or spirit will never possess. The fact that the watch is so old and runs by wind-up amazes me even more - antiquity with a purpose other than appearance. If some creature up in space was able to see me with some x-ray telescope, they'd wonder why some random girl was sitting in the fluorescent wash of stark library lighting, holding a silver fobwatch to her forehead and blinking back tears when she could be outside, watching clouds gather and praying for rain. |