I should’ve closed the window. The calendar slaps itself against the wall making too much noise; I check my phone for the clock. When was the last time I looked for date? It’s not that there’s always something important but when was it?
I walk to the calendar and try to guess what day it is. No idea. My phone lay in the bed; not walking back to it. Why does it matter anyway? Expecting too much from life. I’m a fool perhaps. Days and nights are like blips to me now. Everything happens within the blink of an eye and I keep blinking. The more I wait, the slower time moves.
Monotony seems to be the essence of life. I feel like I can predict the future. Like I know exactly what will happen 24 hours from now. Life has become more of a chore.
I wish I could go back to sleep. Fuck this.