You can call it day one or whatever.

The cyclone has started pissing everywhere. Grey sky today. Sunlight did fell down for some time in the noon. I had to change my sleeping position several times Now it’s just windy and dim and a few people are taking a walk outside. The cyclone won’t be hitting us that bad. I don’t live on earth. I am living somewhere between Mars and Earth, because you can find here none of what you see on Earth. At this point, it is natural to assume that I have been fooled all my life, and that I have no idea about what I am talking.

Woke up after a long slumber. Thankfully, my head isn’t aching. I am just feeling drained. I ate too much in lunch, and whenever I do that, my half day goes to waste. Some white-haired half bald short man is walking alone half naked in my garden at six in the evening. What the hell! What’s going on! Is this even my home! It must be Monday. Yeah. It is indeed. Mondays are great only for the unemployed. I miss my days of unemployment a lot. I think I have said that on several occasions. When I was unemployed, I was so free. So fucking free. I want those days to come back. I am tired of this white-collared slavery. It’s a pain in my ass. It’s the path to lifelong hemorrhoids, to cancer, to irregular blood pressure, to diabetes, to complete failure at doing anything of worth. There’s no adventure. Life crawls out of you slowly but steadily. You can feel it. You can really feel it.

I better get back to my short story. It has been alone for long. It’s a beautiful story inside my head. I just want to put it down before it dies in my terrible head. Before that, a cup of black coffee will be all.

Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s