I wake up, instantly groan at my existence, look at all the messages I haven't received and re-read the ones I've sent. I look at poetry, the sad kind that makes me feel just a little understood, I think of 10 impossible, unlikely and outrageous things that could happen in the next few hours. I sigh and wish I could go back to sleep, I think of all the life I want to be living but am not, I think of how sad I am not fulfilling anything, yet pressured into always working for something menial. I roll my eyes and think of death, before stretching my arms and remembering, ahh its time for breakfast.