"Pondering"

I have slept twice since my last post to the blog, and not a single word from the other contributor to the web-page, the ever-elusive A, or from any other onlookers. Given that measuring time accurately seems to be quite impossible in this place, my sole measure of time is sleep cycles. Thus, I will set my clock by them.

But it on the matter of clocks that I wished to speak, for there has been a noise within my room for the past three-hundred countings of "one-elephant-two-elephant-three-elephant"; it was likely going on prior to this. It started after my second sleep cycle, but I was attempting to navigate this webspace, so I was not paying a particularly high amount of attention.

If you were to stand in a cave with sufficiently good acoustics, the sound would be akin to a droplet of water landing into a lake. The dripping of the water is in the room with me, it seems. It seems to occur once every two seconds, with an occasional moment when it will be silent for three. It is hard to concentrate with such a sound in my life.

The sound drowns out all else; the steady rhythm of fingers-on-keyboard is occasionally overcome by the dripping water. But it is not a loud sound; rather, silence falls for the sound to rise.

The water makes me think. I have not eaten or drank since I found myself in this place. Although I am quite done with growing, a girl still needs to eat at some point or another; metabolic processes require it. I am thus curious as to why there is no rumbling in my stomach and no croak in my throat. I remain as fit and healthy as I did since my first awakening. But, again, I cannot hold a stable command over the time in this place; two sleep-cycles may be only a few hours, if I had the possession of a clock.

Apart from the noise, there is nothing new in this place. The floor is now not as cold as it once was; it is almost a reasonable temperature. Given that there is nothing in this room besides myself and this computer, I have taken to using my clothes as a make-shift bed on the floor, as despite it's reasonable temperature, the floor is as hard as ever. The parts of my body that I cannot soften now have rather unpleasant bruising, which is worrying if I am to spend an extended period of time in this place.

I can only wonder as to my reason for being in this space, composed of order and nothing but.