The Fifth Day

Yesterday is yesterday's yesterday, I mean. Because it's already today. • It's the end of the "Half-Day" in propagandaspeak. Yesterday I went out with my friends for a bit, but literally for a bit. I had to come back because of my programmed sleep schedule, because not going to sleep at the right time would destroy me the next day. I was careful but I pushed it a bit, to 2 AM. Like a cellphone that needs to be recharged every day. Just like that. I talked, I like time, if I can't be satisfied, satiated, with just a bit of the time I need, I'd rather not have it at all. But okay, today was fun. I guess because it wasn't as long. Too long to not maintain my... thing. And after I went to John, not battered just empty. I know the week that follows will be just as devoid of meaning. And the week after, month after, two months after, ----written sigh. I don't know, I really don't know. But it was nice, I happily made the sacrifice, for some meaningful mental contact. Then some food, things. Substances and sustenance. And tomorrow, already today, is my day. The day I can jump back to as routine at any time. A time where I'm, if not happy, content, but from which there is no escape. Or is there? What I'm doing isn't escape. It's... Ugh.