it's rare for me to wake up without some feeling of sickness. the lingering substance i'd use to borrow pleasure from the morning to get me through the night. but somehow i woke up in a world where i am passively hiding from an invisible disease. the news comes from the same screens i use to earn my salary.

i know i have been withdrawing from the world. but now i watch the world withdraw from me. we can no longer stand in a room together out of fear of the toxic air we can breath. and now the music i would hear from my friends comes through that same screen.

somewhere in the chunks of this bile  are pieces of myself. the telephone wires hum faintly as the cars pass by.