From the graveyard.

Four rounds of cigarettes and black coffee. Sometimes, five rounds of cigarettes and black coffee. Sometimes, everything goes berserk and I lose track of count and my room starts smelling like fire broke out. Saw a clear orange sunset after a lifetime. Saw it until the sky turned grey and finally disappeared. Then walked back into my room thinking about another round of cigarettes and black coffee. Soon midnight and the silly want of not falling asleep. Another round of cigarettes and black coffee will follow. Outside is quiet as if I live in a graveyard. Maybe I do. Lots of dead people around. It might not be a graveyard but it’s nothing less either. Equally full and equally empty. Equally scary. Even the tree leaves rustle like the tree leaves in a graveyard. Damn. Am I really living in a graveyard? I am sure ghosts have a sweeter tongue than these people. Almost midnight. Time to pack up and fuck off to my grave.

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