Insanity Crash: The Ragged Tale of My Conscience and I

I am very very tired right now. I write this post at 4.09am on the 14th of February 2008, sitting in an office on the Forties Bravo. I have been sitting here for almost 10 hours, and I am completley drained. I have done a bit of work, but seeing as I have finished what I had been sent out here to do, I suppose I am allowed to sit about, reading the internet, stuck, with my intellect, missing out on the watchings of porn videos and swearing.

I feel like floatsem, idly passing my life by, watching as my hair grows and my eyes tire, listening to the noises of an electronic orchestra punctuated with the devilsh sounds of men, acting out their maleness in a rather discomforting way. In this moment, I feel the most alone I have ever felt on this platform, and probably, in my life. This is because everyone in the room, about the size of a tennis half-court, doesnot know who I am or what I do.

It is like sitting in an airport departure lounge on your own waiting for your delayed flight to appear on the departure board. It is like sitting in a Doctors waiting room whilst people who arrived after you are seen before you. It is like walking through town at night with people that you have only just met that night, who are talking to you about things that you have no interest or experience in. The listlessness is almost calculable.

Sitting here doing nothing is also a big pull on my mind. I am being paid for being out here, and it is not a small amount of cash for me. I think "What value am I" when for the last 24 hours I have been treading water, waiting for the flight that will remove from this void of emptyness. I feel that I am skiving, and someone should give me into trouble - but the people who know what I should be doing are no longer here, and even if they were what could they tell me to do? I am truly finished. Without access to Google Docs, I have wasted hours on message forums, pushing the limits to where I think I can take the internet.

There are men on here who obviously don't give a shit, watching porn, films, and doing nothing for hours on end, without any sideways glance to the new child in our midst, who could if he so fancied, blow the cover on ths hive on inactivity. This trip, shorter and much more intriguing, has led me to believe that the Empty Hours, those between 2am and 6am, are the worst in anyones life, and I truly hope that the next time I have to go on this platform I will stand my ground and say it will only be if I am nightshift. I can only stand so much faffing around and doing nothing before my whole mind will cave in and I will have to go and do some charity work.