實驗結果

Perhaps due to a vague sense of fatigue, rather than sleep coming to me as I spent the entire duration of the dawn, I spent the time editing various live videos I had filmed previously. Following yesterday, this is the second day. As I tried rendering them into short-form videos, there seemed to be about twenty of them. Including uploading more than two a day, it is an amount that will steadily go up for about ten days. Since I have broadcasted frequently of late, just editing those alone would likely yield enough volume to fill the entirety of October.

I worked through the night with bursting energy, but around 11:00 AM, fatigue came rushing in. The outside was incredibly bright, yet I closed my eyes. Had precisely two hours passed? The afternoon sunlight at 1:00 PM filled my vision so completely that I had no choice but to wake from my slumber. My body yearned for more sleep, but it was an illuminance sufficient to rouse me. The day was far too bright, and I didn't particularly want to put on a sleep mask and try to court sleep again. I went to the restroom, sat back down at the computer, and began editing yet another video.

As I was editing, it became around 4:00 PM, and I grew hungry. I wanted to wash up, go outside, and fuel myself with anything high in calories. Yet, once I actually stepped outside, instead of eating fast food like I used to, I decided to consider my health. I stopped by a nearby Bonjuk, wishing to eat cockle bibimbap, but among the bibimbaps, cockle bibimbap was not for sale, so I ate octopus bibimbap instead. Since I have achieved quite a good physical condition whenever I consumed seafood including octopus since the past, I ordered it instinctively.

The day was profoundly overcast. It didn't seem like it would rain. Not heavy clouds, but drifting clouds. Clouds that were a bit thick, blocking the sunlight, yet not the kind that held rain within them.

Having eaten the meal, my parasympathetic nervous system must have been activated. Tension dissolved, and my eyes closed softly. However, rather than returning straight home, I walked around the neighborhood for a good while. It was a routine action, walking as I always do.

During that aimless stroll without a destination, I became acutely aware of just how heavily exposed I was to fatigue and exhaustion. My amygdala was activated, and it felt as though all sorts of negative thoughts were blooming somewhere inside my mind—even though no one had inflicted harm or launched an attack against me. Unquestionably, I was profoundly fatigued right now.

Cognizant of my own condition, I returned home. My eyes are heavy, but rather than falling asleep immediately, I write this text while catching the breeze of the electric fan. The house was warmer than the outside, I did not wish to turn on the air conditioner, and I wanted to record my state. It is a precious moment that can only be written down when one's condition is unstable. It is to record the kind of nature or traits that manifest when a human being is vulnerable. It is akin to a report on an experiment's results. The experimenter is me. The subject is also me. I input the experimenter's various states and behavior patterns in response to stimuli, following a designated format. I am not merely writing a text; rather, I am entering experimental data.