There's a certain time that's subjective to everyone but remains universal in principle. It is the point where you've checked all your emails, replied to all your messages, and all your notifications are read. You've scrolled down your timeline to a point you've already seen before and there doesn't seem to be anything new in the once-infinite bounds of the Internet. And then, time stops. The world around you grows still, your room is dark, unaccustomed to the lack of light from your phone. You can almost hear the quiet enveloping the room. Sleep still evades you, and the very sound of your blankets rustling wakes you further still. Your thoughts wander about as the sky begins to grow brighter, and your eyelids become heavier. You drift off to sleep, and time fast-forwards in your slumber to make up for the little while it stopped for you.