World Sick

Wait, let me guess you’re bored out of your skull. You spent another banal day at work yesterday, then the evening hit, you planned to work out at the gym but your testosterone left you two hours before the appointment. You fret and worry about what to do with your evening. You swear you’ll gouge your eyeballs out if you watch another DVD, you might go to the bar for a drink (but do you really want to?) you might say ‘lets do a little window shopping’ or you might just head on home to cook up some pasta; you’ll try and make the evening mellow, put on some music, open a bottle of wine, chop some garlic, heat some olive oil – you try very hard to keep yourself distracted, you zone off and troll the web, you look at status updates and photos, you pick up a book and then put it down. You pout yourself a drink, the CD – you put in another one. You look at your phone, you look at it again, you take out the thrash, you clean up, you go back to the sofa, you sit with the laptop, you check some inane videos on Huffington post, you check the latest episode of The Daily show, you look at what music NME is talking about, you read a review of a film you want to watch over the weekend, you scroll through your address book looking for a number to call, you check out how your football team is doing, you try and write and then stop at Line 2, you make funny faces in the mirror, you pour another drink, you change the cd, you lie on the sofa again, you shake it off and go do some pull-ups, you lean out of the window for a breath of air and a cigarette, you wonder what people are up to, you think about buying a telescope to peer into the houses of other people, you gaze at the people walking down below, you moisturize, you brush your teeth, you curse not going to the gym, you swear you're going to find things to do, you swear you'll sign up for a martial arts class in the evening (like that's ever going to happen) you tidy up a bit more you wait for the clock to hit 12:30 a.m before you head to bed
You head to bed. Lie there in silence, looking for the cold spot under the pillow and you wait for the sandman.

You sleep.

Repeat x 365