The immediate world that surrounds me will turn to a bleaker angle, and I'll be trapped inside a dark dimension for a thirty hours. After crawling out of a bad day, I'll scratch words into an acid-free notebook - I'll assemble all the thoughts and ideas and emotions relevant to the situation just to establish significance and validity from the darkness. But the ink is perishable, and the meaning I have just constructed will be useless and outdated within four seconds. And once it's over, I'll have to reboot the system and fall into a similar darkness and fabricate similar meanings and experience similar expirations. The rounds repeat until the forecast integrates itself into the realm of nothingness and I become nothing more than weak and tired and unable.