Last Monday of September. 

I am in a daze. Waking up and sleeping has become a seamless cycle. Some days I cannot tell these cycles apart. I wake in the day world and I sleep only to enter day once again. Sleep has become unfamiliar to me, especially the ones free of lucid-dreaming and active nightmares. Is sleep still restful if the mind is afraid of sinking into nothingness? I have a lot of questions, but few I actually want answers to. Sorry means nothing anymore and my time spent in different places are starting to look more and more like time wasted. If I am only surviving  in all aspects of my life, will I still feel I have nothing to lose? Or is time also a precious avenue to consider? If so, then aren’t we all just losing? I get out of my room and look around the empty house. Everyone’s left. Just me now. In the day the quietness is lovely, even. But in the night, I hate venturing even to the washroom. The dark seems to swallow everything and one day maybe it will take me too. I engage in my daily routine of freshening up and leave the house. Walking under the sun to the bus stop. Sometimes the only thing that reminds me I am really alive is how my body perspires under heat. Reminder that my body is still functioning with this ghost of a brain. I walk walk walk walk walk. Board the bus and take the seat right at the back. Alone and earphones in. Living in my mind for a while more before I have to be social with a lot of living beings I have no energy to care for anymore. The questions come back. My pulse is still going. I picture an accident in my mind. Maybe a car will swerve out of nowhere against this bus. What is that like? No, no, no. I can’t risk that. I doubt I have insurance. Anyway, I have hope because on better days I still fear premature death. 

Or am I just fear? 

I am in a daze. 

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