Any day, morning time. The alarm goes off,  but you have already been wide awake for the past hour or so after a semi-insomniac night. It’s just signaling you to be up on your feet to get ready for another extra-ordinary (mega-ordinary) day. You snooze it for another five minutes of extended nothingness and close your eyes, hoping to find a moment of peace. All you get is what you got for the past hour: A feeling of indescribable and escalating uneasiness. Then,  the alarm goes off again wailing like a digital banshee. Your last warning to delve into the heart of boredom once more.
The bathroom mirror reflects a withered soul. You practise a conscise eternity to force a smile which should have been mastered after so many tries. You stare at the bath tub and think why bother. It’s just another day that the impurity of your soul will match your filthy body. You give out an unexpected smile;  a natural one.
The habitual morning coffee tastes horrid as usual. Your sense of taste had abandoned you along with your spirit ages ago. Breakfast! The eggs taste as they have just come out of a chicken’s ass: tasting like shit, as if summarizing how you’ve been feeling for as long as you can remember. Thinking of shit, you rush to the toilet seat and spend some time regulating your intestines. You smile again. Perhaps the only thing that never changes is your bowel moment. You realize you are no more human. You’re more like a machine that carries out the simplistic procedures to keep you alive.

Losing touch with reality, not knowing what is real what is not. Getting distanced out from your memory,  your used-to-be strongest forte. Becoming a defunct in the simplistic everyday chores. Time travelling in your sleep, waking every hour to find out that it’s always earlier and penetrating once more into the dream world to live in another fantasy. Playing God, so omnipotent yet lonely. Alone. Living your social moments as a vegetable, an over-thinking cauliflower. Witnessing everlasting shifts in your likes and dislikes and slowly delving into insanity, dancing on its boundaries and actually enjoying it with a sour taste of handful of crushed grapes in your mouth.
And everything; each action and dream repeating itself,  becoming a daily routine. Boredom without limits.

The summer sun warms your battle-worn bones under the bluest skies but your soul remains dark, orphan, untouched; missed by the healing rays of life. Birds chant, but cannot enchant. Friends hug you so sincere that your body is lifted but your morbid soul becomes an anchor in a dried sea bed. The heavy dark patch within expands like a blotch of ink spilt on paper, as though it is fed by what others call bliss. The winter gushes into the depths of your soul, skipping fall. The only way the darkness to dim out is through a symphony strong enough to rattle your soul and sprinkle you onto the new day piece by piece although you would settle for a couple of notes. Melodies slither into your soul and your body starts moving like an unlively marionette showing the tiniest signs of rebirth of a life trapped in an ugly thick shell. You budge to the rhythm in slow motion, hoping to jump start your once lively spirit but….. then the music ends.