You know your are dead but you feel your heart beating and your lungs breathing.
The curtains are closed and the shimmer of the day still peeks in to your dark abode. Under the layers of blanket, you’ve comforted yourself.
4 in the evening and you had another glass of whiskey, two pills to put you down because one never does the trick.
The voices from the street tone down as the drowsy state of mind engulfs you.
What a lucky son of a bitch I am, you think to yourself, after mastering the art of not needing people in my life..I’ve mastered the art of not giving a fuck about time as well.
So, underneath the sheets you pat yourself on the back and fade out to nothingness.
Today is officially cancelled.