The smell is to night but in fact are not even eleven. Fatigue deceives the senses and the perception of time. You sit on the toilet, confused thoughts, heavy thoughts. Slowly everything away irrelevant, work, home, family. A step into the void, so suddenly. You could stay there, within the confines of madness, for eternity and no one would look for you. Then your gaze moves away for a moment and here it is the washing machine, full of linen hanging out.
So smile and go back through the porthole from oblivion.
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