#00126: Transit

I woke up in a hotel lobby. Purple sofas. A half-filled (or half-empty) bottle of Sprite was on the table. It didn’t smell like Sprite. The headache was unbearable. 

I was in Singapore yesterday. I was locked in a hotel room; the walls were slowly creeping in and I found it hard to breathe. Singapore was fun, but I didn’t like it. 

I was in Jordan last week. It felt lonely being alone. This “body-image” issue I have is much worse than I ever thought. I’m a fucking prisoner to my thoughts. Thoughts! Illusions of the fucking mind. Meh. 

I’m still in the hotel lobby staring at that purple sofa. Fucking headache. 

I’m still asleep. I wish tomorrow never happened. I wish today will happen soon. 


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