A dull day, one without poetry or poison. In bed all day, watching things not cared about, falling in and out of sleep, only moving from necessity. The volume of the things I might have wanted was too low, all the rest was too loud; one putting me to sleep, the other waking me up. Television, they will probably never get it right. I remember a time when it was at least civil, now it is just dull and aggressive abruptness. It only takes watching it to want to stop watching it. Then, sometimes, the room just feels too lonely. The quiet makes me wish for noise.
I get up to piss, and then try the tv again. The sound of the toilet flushing makes me wonder why some people don't drink. Life must be unbearable, to cause such a thing.