Slept around 4:55 am. Woke up at around 5:15 pm today. What’s wrong with me. When I tried to wake up, my back started aching badly. It felt as if an infection is travelling upwards through the spine and not letting me move. It was a strange sensation.
Haven’t smoked in a day. I feel the urge to smoke but I won’t. Or maybe just one. No I won’t. Just one maybe. No. Just one. Won’t. One. No way. No fucking way.
The fight is ugly and real. I’m closing my eyes and listening to something pleasant. I love the music of Hermanos Gutierrez. It captures that fleeting feeling. It captures that long stretch of time when nothing much gets done and days feel the same and the observer is doing what he does best – observing.
9:05 pm. Sleep won’t come tonight. I know it won’t. The weather brings nothing except melancholy. Man is sick but he can’t rest. There’s much to do. There’s people to look after. There’s duty to carry out. Man is sick and dying. Sometimes he finds rest only in his grave.
– Tomic
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