Middle of winter, temperature wise and lack-of-light wise, but as far as we're concerned, none of that really matters. Time advances, passes, and little bits and pieces, especially those stuck between our teeth, remain to keep our attention for as long as we pay just enough of our attention to it.
But what is it that keeps it running, ticking and pounding our little bodies to dust? I'm not sure. I know it runs on whatever keeps this young lad moving and dancing to whatever music sounds.
A happy birthday was had by this other energy-driven lad, his eighteenth so far. The Seventh of January comes and goes again.