Is it morning, or is it night? Because the lamp’s on and light’s passing through the windows. I remain horizontal, holding a staring tournament with the ceiling. I barely won because blurred vision distracted me. Do you know? That ceiling could flash a thousand images, and induce a hundred emotions. It could win Best Picture anytime.

Been here all day, to what started as a sunny day. Good things don’t last though. Everyone can attest to that. And now I’m Eeyore, with stratus clouds crowning my head. It should have been flowers and leaves with the rest of me in a flowing white dress.

Now breathing’s a chore so I guess I should play unconscious for now.

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