My body is comfortably nestled deep within my sheets and blanket, a bright light emanates from my computer screen, my shoulders ache from my sunburn, and my fingers are not moving as fast the thoughts running circles around my brain. I sit here, and in the quiet of the night, am listening to the voice in my head reading this aloud. Time is something that I have been violently robbed of recently, so despite the late/early hour, I do not feel the least bit like I am wasting my time. Chaos and stress make up the majority of most of my days, along with constant pressure and worries, but not here. All day I long for the moment I can lay my head on my clean, white pillow and let my mind turn to mush. While everyday I silently pray and imagine this moment in all of its glory, it suddenly feels different. Every day I wait so patiently for the moment I get to crawl into my bed, and forget (or further dissect) every single part of my day/week/month/year/life. I am just now, at 12:56 A.M., realizing that maybe that’s the wrong way of doing things. Maybe if I am always swindled of my time, I should just take any opportunity to do the things I want to do, even if that means writing late at night or early in the morning when I should be too busy dreaming of algebra and AP exams. As these random thoughts keep invading my mind and maneuvering themselves into this post, I am now even more deeply curled up in my bed, and the light coming from my screen is getting dimmer, my sunburn still aches, and my mind still wanders.