I'm writing a story

[Silly Putty Clock]

It's this whole big crazy thing.

[Silly Putty Clock]

Noise. Loud jumbled noise surrounds me, confusing me, everywhere, from every direction. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what to do. I’d cover my ears, but everything is formless, chaotic, indistinct, so I have no ears. All I can do is try to swim out of the noisy abyss. I don’t know if I’m going the right way. There is no up or down. All I know is the noise, and it’s driving huge wedges of pain into my tortured mind. It’s all so bubbly and yet sharp as a razor at the same time. I’m just whirling, around and around and around and around, faster all the time. It’s breaking up. If it keeps up at this rate, everything’s going to fly apart. All apart into sweet nothingness, darkness and silence, nothingness.
It’s all going to fly apart.
It’s all going to blow itself apart.
Things are starting to clear up a bit. The confused blurry grey jumble around me begins to settle into vague shapes. The screaming becomes quieter, but somehow thicker, more confident. It’s more of a blaring now. I’m seeing something more familiar now. I have a face now, and a wall looms ahead of it. There’s something wrong with the wall, though. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but maybe it has something to do with the strong, steady force pulling me sideways against a much softer surface. The constant blaring has separated into a series of steady, regular blasts of unforgiving saw-toothed sound. I can feel hard little rings pressing at me from deeper within this softness. I know what’s wrong with the wall. I’m looking at it sideways.
I wake up in my bed at 6:45 in the morning.
Silently, I’m marveling at how different my alarm clock sounds when my head is turned away from it.
But that’s how it always is. Perspective fucks with everything.
True enough.

[Silly Putty Clock]

And that's just the beginning. I wrote it a while ago today while I was bored. It's based on this idea I've been thinking about for a while.

[Silly Putty Clock]

Hey.

[Silly Putty Clock]

Somebody read this.

[Silly Putty Clock]

It's really good.

[Silly Putty Clock]

I promise.

[Randy Pearson]

It's okay.

[Silly Putty Clock]

It's okay.

I'll make millions! Millions!