The day feels long, stretching before you like a brilliant void. Like a black hole of nothing. You want it to be over. You ache because of the worthlessness of those twenty four hours that seem to have slowed for your personal torture.
The day feels long, stretching gloriously before you. Whispered conversations, ideas, and plans that seem to take seconds. Time walks peacefully next to you as you breathe deep and take life one crisis at a time.
The day drags. It is monotony. It is merely routine. Day after day drags dreadfully, dubiously.
The day prances playfully, like the sunshine. Adventure lurks, laughing and giddy, around every corner, every bud, every breath of wind, and birdsong.
Length boils down to perception.