text: My dad said this to me as soon as I woke up. I'd once again fallen asleep to the TV screen flashing colours- waiting for my meds to dull them out. I suddenly felt worried; how long until I see the screen start to fade? &#x200B; I sat up and ignored him. I grabbed my laptop, unwillingly ready to work. I wouldn’t brush until late afternoon- a norm in my passage of days. I’d sometimes look at my sister sitting opposite my bed with her table, laptop stand, and cup of coffee and get lost thinking about how we’d look to an outsider. One, barely in a normal position typing away at her laptop- and the other, as ready as she would be to go into the office.The day would pass by in a blink. Every second excruciating. 60,000 hours. 2,500 days. A little less than 7 years. The years seem to pass faster as you grow older- the end of those 60,000 hours seemed too close. Comfortably close. &#x200B; It was night now, and everyone had gone to bed. I took my daily medication and lay down on the sofa and waited for the meds to kick in. The colours looked so lovely. So lovely... Soon they faded into darkness. It was just my eyes closing but it felt wonderful. I couldn’t feel a thing when asleep- perhaps the greatest feeling in the world. It expanded beyond my understanding of bliss and all things surrounding it. To not feel was to feel the most. It was finally time for the next 24 hours. I opened my eyes to a colourful television screen, mocking me in all its vibrancy. I turned it off before my dad saw. “60,000 hours only. Do you know how little that is?” It sounded like an eternity. It was an eternity- almost 7 years sounds tediously long. 7 years ago I was 14... I can barely remember it. The last 3 years seemed shorter than the 3 prior to it. Did I say this already? I think I did. What would I fall asleep to once the TV stopped flashing its colours at me? There would be nothing that would drift into darkness from radiance. I’d simply feel the same and sleep would come and I would wake up no longer looking forward to wasting those 60,000 hours. I was worried I wouldn’t have my beloved TV, my rainbow that would turn to grey clouds- in reverse but oddly comfortable. I wasn't actually worried about that though. But you probably caught onto that. My TV would never fade away in front of my eyes. Its bright colours would always be there to put me to sleep. I wasn’t worried my TV screen would fade away, dad. I was worried I wouldn't last another 60,000 hours to see it die with me.