"confusion of time" is correct and usable in written English.
For instance, you might use this phrase to describe the feeling of disorientation when you don't know what time it is: "I felt great confusion of time after my long flight."
Perfect clarity emerges from what in other hands would be a confusion of time frames and viewpoints.
But what if, instead of observing the modern mind from the outside — its immersion in thought, its paralysis of will, its tangled motives, its confusion of time planes — what if the novelist were to record this from the inside, let the hero tell his own story, in a way that reflected as faithfully as possible the movements of his psyche?
An unnamed central European country on the brink of the first world war: this was one way to eliminate the confusions of time and place that have given Verdi's Un ballo in maschera (1859) such a knotted history.
The logic of the last two needs no further discussion; in the first, comic effects are contrived by making a situation participate simultaneously in two independent chains of events with different associative contexts, which intersect through coincidence, mistaken identity, or confusions of time and occasion.
Despite the organizational confusion of the time, the early 11th century was a period of intense religious activity at all levels of society.
The accepted version now holds that Iranian saboteurs with perhaps a few Iraqi deserters used the confusion of the time to infiltrate the border and sow havoc.
Additionally, folk and rock music communicated the anger and confusion of the time, rather than scoring points with cheeky internal rhymes and charming pathos.
Here Hughes writes with the force of a good journalist; he is no longer an abstract Negro everyman but a reporter weighing in on the heat and confusion of the time, without too much self-conscious hipster jive.
Some of them died because their day jobs were with the army or the police; others, such as the legendary flanker Florica Murariu, were simply victims of the turmoil and confusion of the time.
I love Sydney in any time period, but the flux of the post-war decades fascinates me particularly; my character Henry's discomforts and discoveries, his bewilderment in the face of art and love grow out of my interest in the excitement and confusion of this time.
For Henry Adams, writing at the start of the 20th century, the Roman Catholic churches at Mont-St.-Michel and Chartres were the sublime symbols of a medieval unity of vision, founded on God, which he contrasted to the industrialized confusion of his time.
