I stared blankly at the cream colouring of my kitchen wall for thirty seconds, it didn't appear to be there at all.
It felt as if it were kilometres away, even though I could see it there right in front of me. It seemed like a glitch moving back and forth between reality and whatever the opposite of that may be.
I don't feel so sure of anything anymore
I don't feel. I don't feel so sure of anything anymore.
My hands twitching by my side, I continued to stared. Nothing except this dim drone filled my head, constant in its pitch but inconsistent in the way it felt. Sometimes if I concentrate really hard the drone goes away, this feels like an accomplishment to me. The low, aching sound always comes back, nothing is ever really achieved.
I break the stillness with a turn of my head towards the back door. I open it, I move through but I still feel as if I'm in front of the wall. I light a cigarette and its noxious gas immediately fills my lungs. I exhale the poison and feel slightly relieved, as if a small portion of pain has faded away. I can find a small of comfort in the suns rays. The warmth makes me feel like I am where I am. I feel nauseous. I stub out the cigarette and I sit.
I don't feel so sure of anything anymore.
I don't feel. I don't feel so sure of anything anymore
I light another cigarette and observe the smoke playing in the afternoon glow. It creates a shadow against the fence and I wonder how something so beautiful and strange can exist in the absence of light. It is the absence of light. Maybe I am like that smoke. Maybe I am just a fleeting shadow existing merely for the lack of something else. Maybe I should avoid asking questions when I'm alone. I drink some water to try and numb the bitter taste in my mouth.
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