My Big Dream: A Clock That Knows to Be Quiet

In every person's life, there are always great aspirations. Some want to build a glorious career that seemingly falls from the sky; some dream of contributing to changing the entire world after climbing out of the bottom of a well; and then there are people like me, who consider brewing coffee a form of exercise and sitting at the keyboard writing a type of spiritual sustenance.

In this one corner, I am sometimes diligently writing a $5 million research proposal to convince organizations perched atop gleaming ivory towers that the future of humanity truly requires this investment. And in another corner of life, it is also me sometimes frantically preparing documents, filling out forms, and typing heartfelt lines to secure a $2,000 charitable grant for youth activities for a few organizations at the very bottom of society, where even the streetlights have to take shifts.

Yet, amidst these duties that sound so grand and meaningful, I hold a very small, yet burning, wish in my heart. I only want one thing: for my wall clock to please be silent.



It may sound trivial, but it is actually the most persistent and nagging torment of my writing life. Every time I try to focus on describing the magnitude of a scientific project, the ticking sounds like a symphony of psychological terrorism. Each sound drops exactly on beat, slow and emotionless, like a reminder that time is passing even faster than the speed at which I hit the backspace key.

Tick. An idea sparks. Tock. The idea vanishes. Tick. A very sophisticated opening sentence is about to take shape. Tock. My brain's temporary memory is wiped clean.

Even when I switch to writing charity applications for those marginalized by life, the ticking relentlessly pursues me like a kind of fate. It doesn't just remind me that the deadline is looming, but also makes me realize the ironically outdated nature of this technology itself. In a world where robots can cook, artificial intelligence can write, and self-driving cars take people to work, the wall clock still operates based on the principle of making noise to prove it's alive.

I've often thought that perhaps this clock truly believes that if it stays quiet, time will stop. But no, time keeps flowing; only my nerves are getting thinner.

And so, I dream of a new clock. A modern, courteous, smart clock that, above all, knows how to keep silent. No tick, no tock, no psychological torture. Just operating silently, self-adjusting for daylight savings, displaying the temperature, humidity, and even forecasting the weather like a certified meteorologist.

If you, too, are having the sound of ticking drilled into your head every day, please allow me to respectfully present the thing that has saved my sanity.

I wish you enjoyment of the precious silence that new-generation clock technology can bring.


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