From the time that I wake up, until the time I go to bed, I find myself in a constant debate with things I'll never do and words that are never said.
  The sun beams through the window at an unforgiving hour. This coma is getting harder to wake up from. The dead weight I've been carrying around is starting to show its wear. My energy has finally built to abandon this burial hole of a bed, but the day has already gone and went.
  Am I stuck? I mean that's the only explanation that agrees with me. I'm drowning as I watch the life around me thriving. In fact, I think life is mocking me. But all is well, for my room is clean. My annex is clean. My room is clean.
  Who am I kidding? The annex in which I call my room is clean enough now that the next couple of days are fine. The next couple days that I will spend here. With myself. Or at least I wish it was myself.
  I may be escaping people, but my mind is worse than people. My thoughts hate me, they tell me everyday. And I just want quiet. No thought, no lies, no problems...just quiet. But I sit here stuck. Stuck with what wasn't,  what isn't and what won't ever be.