Ticks and Tocks

I don’t like the clock ticking.

I don’t like the way, I races towards the midnight and begins a new, destination less circle again. With no mercy to anyone, of any kind. Without letting anyone catch up.

I don’t like its restlessness.

The ticks and tocks so loud, in the dead of the night, so intense that its mere presence seems to suppress me down. Down… down… down.

Down into the eternal abyss of time, eternal abyss of empty nothingness. With nothing by the screeching echoes of ticks and tocks; ticks and tocks.

Each tick of the second as if laughing a deep grumpy laugh upon my life, reminding me of my helplessness.

Sending vibes up into the air. The vibes chilling enough to shiver up my weak and lone soul.

My tired eyes with baggy sacks of loose brown skin begging to close down, but my mind wouldn’t let them have their well deserved rest. My mind scared by the merciless Ticks and Tocks; Ticks and Tocks.

Teasing my confused mind with each click, as if hinding a thousands of my screens deep behind them, and then laughing (with the ticks and tocks) at me; laughing and enjoying.

The emptiness of the teasing of those ticks and tocks strong enough to drag me to madness, strong enough to make me SCREAM… scream at… Scream at the clock and its racing second hand (with its restless tick and tock; tick and tock).

Knowing; knowing with all the presence of my mind (mad mind) that it would bear no fruit.
But I cannot help; I cannot help screaming (tearing and blooding my own throat) as the mercyless hand circles the cruel number of the clock and laughing at me with each of its ticks and tocks; ticks and tocks.

Ticks and Tocks.


  • Puddin Tane

    Needs lots of work. Makes no sense. Sounds like you were in a hurry to get it done. 2 of 5.

  • Jamie E

    No U

  • Bonnie Manz

    The grammar is so bad that I honestly didn’t finish your story. You really need to work on this.