Mourning Coffee

I wake up, rubbing my eyes.

When I stand my body feels… alright actually. The problem is not in my muscles, it’s not in my bones, and still it is somewhere on the borderline of tangible.

It’s hard to tell exactly what it is, morning coffee doesn’t help, same with a few push-ups. Thinking nothing else will do much I end the everyday routine with a shower, in a vain hope of it doing what the coffee and exercise failed to accomplish.

The cold water hits me straight in the face.

I feel the same.

Shampoo, soap, no conditioner.

After scrubbing every inch of my body and letting more cold water wash it all away I turn the knob and dry myself with a towel.

While brushing my teeth I look at my reflection, my eyes are slightly more bloodshot than yesterday, my head feels slightly heavier.

It’s a drag, but in the meantime I have no choice but to go along with this kind of life.

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