alone in the aphotic enclosed rectangle I return to every night. The taste of vomit recently spewed into the porcelain throne, lying deep in the back of my throat. Pondering the uneventful twenty four hours that we call a day and hoping to drift away into oblivion, with no knowledge of what will happen next. I am an abandoned vessel floating mysterious and lifelessly deeper and deeper into the vast wasteland of the fruit we need to survive. My brain pleading for the next day and to gain renewal. The calmest point in my life is right now, and i can't comprehend it. Thoughts begin to get lost and jumbled until quickly snapped into place by the conscious movement of my existence. I go into it with no wonder or questioning of what happens, but just accept my fate like the rest of the commons and wither into nothingness. My anhydrous spheres of vision accept the abutting state of mind, and like the rest of me, begin to vanish. I am the sand being blown along the desert floor, with no emotion or destination ahead.
And now i lay here
and now I lay here...