The time where you challenge your tolerance in depriving yourself from this beautifully presented need to retire. Too little time, too many things to do. You reach the point when you conclude that taking advantage of all 24 hours of a day sounds logical. The slow shift from day to night becomes insignificant and the focus is lain on the difference in the intensity of light or rather the presence or absence of it. Also, the difference in temperature at different points within this set interval. The only actual thing that defines time, other than the number shown on the screen of a clock is the movement of the earth around the sun assigned in relation to the movement of the moon as well. Is there a point in becoming nocturnal? Is there a point in sleeping at all when there are so many things you need to accomplish within a day?
An observation of mine during this sleep deprivation mode was my inability to control stimuli that are presented to me; namely a seriously unintelligent episode of a tv series. The effect that had on me was the fact that I wa unable to accept the place I was in since at the course of the episode I allowed myself to flirt with the idea that I was in a different country, in the shoes of the protagonist and specifically the female character of the show and as a result, when the show was actually over I had to allow myself to rest for a couple of minutes until I could familiarise anon with the concept of being where I actually am and to set my mind back to the path I have designed for me towards the goals I have classified as wotth fighting for. What a bloody nonsense! A wonderful nonsense that literally leads my brain and structures my day as it is nothing but the frame of the routine I have chosen to follow.
Another effect of this sleep deprivation was the illusion introduced to me that now that I have accomplished to fight the factor of time in my life, I am capable of stretching my limits and allowing myself to exercise a greater amount of my brain. My speed has increased. My feet split the wind in two when I am walking and they can go anywhere. Pain is not an issue. Fatigue is an overrated excuse and distance is merely a number. I can and I am hyper as well as motivated sufficiently to do it. The world is served to me on a silver platter; a platter whose size is undefinable yet every corner of it is accessible. Every bit of it is within the range of my arm’s reach and grasping each one of the elements of that platter carries the guarantee of it educating me, unwrapping a new experience to me or even providing me a range of information that could potentially be utilised at some point in my life or even my post-academic career.
This impeccable property of a sleep deprived individual to bullshit and overanalyze simple things is rather intriguing. This sleep deprivation mode has certainly switched the auto-pilot mode of my system on and the mere fact that bullshitting as well as examining any possible part of my day, my life or even myself seems and feels natural is extremely scary. Probably those meaningless combinations of symbols entitled words are easily used even when nothing actually makes sense in your surroundings and therefore, the concept of being able of using them is meaningless in itself or rather could be used as a proof that anyone in my shoes would rely on constructing a nest of meaning from scratch; even if there is no worth stimulus to initiate a healthy train of thought.