Just Another Day
Posted on 2003-09-13
As the world falls apart, and you lose your grip on reality, like so many fading memories, you start to realise that there was nothing there in the first place; that you're holding onto the fear of losing something you never had.
Another day, lying in my bed.
Another day, screaming at the ceiling.
On nights alone I need something tangible to determine time; something to prove that I have been alive - at least in the sense of strictly the black and white dead or alive.
I hate this living death of spirit, of ambition. It's all about closing eyelashes and walking blindly but never reaching where you set out for.