A train wreck of thoughts

6 hours, 27 minutes. Yeah, that’s enough. Of course it’s enough. You only need 6 hours. I’ll probably snooze till 9 anyway. No, I really should go on time tomorrow. It’s the last few days. Not that I have anything to prove. These fucking dogs. Man’s best friends. Won’t let man sleep, best friend. Isn’t there something wrong if your best friend is another species. Stop doing that. Get a new pillow, for god’s sake. Where do you get a new pillow? I’ve never seen a pillow shop. Where did these come from? No clue. Maybe you get them at Zara. Zara? What the hell? Fuck it’s 4? Oh fuck me, I can’t wake up on time now. Maybe I should smoke. What the fuck? You almost threw up your lung just then. But it does help you sleep, doesn’t it? Don’t be an asshole. There’s polonium in your lungs. It has a half life of 20 years or something. So it’s already like a nuclear reactor, no? One more won’t hurt. Will. Critical mass. Maybe that’s why I’m still feeling hot in December. January will be a change finally. Try and do other things too, like save some money. And not waste all your fucking time watching shit. Really? We’re doing resolutions now? No really, I need some money. I’ll need to move out before the summer. Fuck, summer, horrible. We should have our own Game of Thrones meme. Brace yourself. Summer is coming. Picture of a corporate type with a vest-shaped sweat patch on his shirt. And sticky powder on his neck. Yeah, that’s not going, you know. It’s called smoker’s cough. Aur pee le cigarette, bhenchod. What if I don’t get a new job? I can’t stay here. No way. You know my ego won’t allow it. I can’t go there either. That’ll just make me suicidal. You are suicidal. You just don’t have the balls. Fuck off. You know you love this, on a weird subconscious level. You like being depressed and shit. I can’t sit at home, I’ll go crazy. God, I remember that time after college. That was hell. Actual hell. At least you won’t have girls treating you like garbage. Or did you like that too? Sad bastard. At least I could write better. Yeah. Fucking Dostoevsky you were. Did my tooth just magically stop hurting? Shut up, don’t remind it. Think of something else. Don’t see the time. What’s the point, don’t do it. I’m going to be late anyway. Deal with it in the morning. Oh fuck it, this is not working. Okay, one smoke. I won’t in the morning. Not until lunch, I swear.

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2 Responses to A train wreck of thoughts

  1. aps says:

    Just so you know, I hope you kick the habit for good. I mean, I really hope you do. If a genie popped out of a bottle and asked me for three wishes, I would wish thrice for you to kick the habit.

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