day as day

Well, as always, I get up, I'm looking for a place to make coffee. I think about the damage of coffee and sugar, pull on the elastic of my panties, check that everything is in place, and change the water.

That haunting feeling of being the same again, nothing special to write about. Well, you learn to write by writing. No history, no pain. Day after day, everything is the same in threes.

It is clear that everything is a miracle, there is nothing banal, you just need to concentrate and remember that you are dust hanging in space on a rotating, fiery core, giant ball, which is also dust on the scale of the universe. A fly's worth of crap thrown into space.

The coffee is drunk, I'm going to walk around the room, I'll do three squats, then I'll check again how the situation has changed in the threes.

I seem to have a crooked spine, I'm kind of leaning to one side, whenever I try to go do things, I throw up and fall on the couch in front of the TV. In addition, it also swims under the right shoulder blade.

Everything is a miracle, I remind myself. Music is playing, so much beautiful music that I like, music is better than silence, what music can be listened to. As long as it seems better than silence, it's music. Everything else you want, but not music.

With nothing to do, I imagine: if I were a hired killer, what would life be like?

Well, what's the plan for today? I don't have any special orders, just the same: kill and leave no trace. I have accumulated so much experience that killing someone is easier than waiting in line at the cafeteria. Sometimes I go to such a place to eat near home and otherwise it's good for a conspiracy. I chat with others in line, make up some story about how I got scammed by phone scammers or how I won a million and now live in Dubai on the 222nd floor, which I take the golden elevator to. I only come back here to visit my mother, who lives in the south. Of course, I didn't kill anyone. I'm going home.

Well, that's all, we need to end the nonsense.

I look in the mirror, thinking whether to shave or not. I won't shave.

Throwing on something that caught on my hand and was under my feet, I head towards the exit.

I open the door, and instead of the staircase there is a black sky full of stars. A similar sky can be seen far from the city, standing in the middle of the forest. Another shooting star passes by, Venus hot with revenge flies by, then Mars, split in deathly cold, and Saturn encircled like an atom in a spinning arc.

One more step and I will be a part of all that infinite darkness. I'm tempted, but I don't step.

STOP! The situation in the thirties is slowly starting to change.