We Are Condemned To Kill Time.
Thus We Die Bit By Bit.
I am a human contradiction, . I sit at this table with a white cotton cloth drapped along the sides. I watch the glasses eliquently placed remain stationary as the room spins around me with the cluttered atmosphere of those trite and cheap . The air is dry, and my lungs compress. I wait, and wonder where the time has gone. As the ash of my neglected cigarette falls and the smoke rises i see myself as a reflection, as a ghost. My mind, rampid, my heart , off beat, my conscience unclean. Memories of people and places, of sights and scenes all converge into a spectrum streched out across the room. And there i sit in a daze, in limbo, and in silence. When will i wake up..
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