Long Summer Weekend

Idle thoughts, idle motion, kept to bed by choice not by virtue. Ceiling fan spins... spins... spins. Air is moist and warm and heavy, house no A/C, upstairs becomes a sauna, no blankets needed when sleeping... sleeping... sleeping. Listen to sad music, try talking to a friend, try doing something but forget it and never try it again. Let the dishes stack up in the sink, let the trash stack up in the canister, let the dust gather like a thin coat of paint, it scream apathy at you from hard surfaces. Make sure to water the plants so they don't die, at least that's easy enough, don't forget to drink water yourself so you don't die, that's a little harder. Hours and hours and hours waste away into nothingness, haven't opened your mouth all day because who needs talking? Maybe you'll fall asleep and have a good dream, but the nightmares are becoming more common again. The day slowly morphs into evening, and your left with the sinking feeling of still having hours to kill.