Empty time that feels like it drags on forever.
Time that we fill with _pass_times so that it won't drag so much.
Time that ends with death, which takes everything we value from us.
The crawling months and days and hours and minutes and seconds that crawl by
as if they will never end.
The excruciating boredom of pure time, because time _is_ boredom. There is
no difference between them.