I have not indulged in any liquid vices yet I am enchanted into a drunken stupor.
I have not driven my bottom limbs 6 miles yet I am exhausted into endless days in bed.
I have not excused myself from privilleged meals yet I am starving, scouring around my
establishment for staples to satisfy my belly.

Two days locked in my bedroom and my skin has lost its colour, a white sidling pallor the
housekeeper.
I gape at the immaculate grey walls and soon their mouths emerged. Tales of fantastical
fancies lulled me into a ghostly realm in the state of my insensibility. My ivory marbled legs  
gradually stood rooted to the ground, lifeless logs longing for bustle. Stiff buttocks molded  
into the cheap cushions of a black swivel chair.

My head feels heavy and my eyes feels heavier.
Will you take me to solace?