For years, men of old had argued that the sun throws itself over us again and again. Along came Galileo and his blasphemous suggestion of otherwise.

Years of indoctrination assure me that he was right, but it sure doesn’t feel like it. Perhaps the stationary ground beneath my feet convinces me that it is perfectly alright to procrastinate.

As I frivoled my days away, I heard Time’s winged chariot hurrying near. I grabbed my watch and threw it away. I refuse to age.

24 years 11 months 30 days 5 hours 24 minutes.

Forever.