You wake up, drag yourself out of bed, begrudgingly head to the shower, all while half asleep. Feeling closer to awake, you dry yourself off and you go back to your room. Sitting on the bed, wrapped up in a towel, you light a cigarette as you’re idly deciding what to wear.
You finish it up, forgetting. You light another cigarette, pretending you have a reason for stalling. You’re no longer thinking about what to wear. You are thinking of absolutely nothing and everything all at once.
And then, you light another.
And another.
And as you put out what you say will be the last cigarette and dump the butt in the ashtray,
Nothing.
You sit there, knowing you have somewhere to be and things to do but you are unable to move, not wanting to think, not wanting to do anything, not wanting to fucking exist.
And you light another cigarette.
