int. bed

you can't remember when you woke up. dragged and feeling drugged, you spend your days in a state of being half-awake. life has become too bothersome.

int. living room

afternoons where the light enters the jalousie windows has always been a delight. it's probably a good thing you are still delighted by some of the little things in this world.

ext. stairs

at a young age, you've hurt others (unintentionally?) and learned how to lie, trying to save yourself from the annoyance and shame of being physically and emotionally hurt. you sly devil, you.

ext. the yard

there's a faucet left open, creating a stream where the leaves and dirt are washed away into the sewers. the water's flow is perfect for launching paper boats to their one-way trip to nowhere.

int. bathroom

the dark green tiles of the room is growing increasingly dark thanks to the amount of cigarettes you smoke inside, trying to know peace by locking yourself in cramped space. it does not help.

ext. the streetlamp outside the gate

cold kisses from the wind soothe you after rounds of tomorrow's regret. beneath the pale moon, you dance with your shadow, alone, miserable but happy. the recurring sadness brought on by these nights has been a part of your life for so long that you welcome it with open arms like a friend.