When time becomes unimportant, something that’s not real. When it becomes one of those trees you see flying by outside the window when you’re sitting on a train… When it doesn’t matter if you leave you’re bed in the morning or if you have a job to go to.
That’s when you start to questioning you’re existence. When you start wondering… is this real? And what is my purpose.
If I’m depressed? Hell no! In one way it’s liberating just shutting down your mind for a moment of time. Say hey man… I am taking a break from life.
But is it healthy?
At this time I’ve been sick laying in my bed for three days looking at the sealing with no thoughts what so ever, kind of looked at movies even if I didn’t really saw them and been sitting on the toilet.
Sitting on the toilet can be one of the most boring things you can do when you go there about fifteen times a night and about the double during the day.
Thoughts that crossed my mind during one of these times:
What if someone saw me right now?
Am I sitting the right way?
Is this a weird smell?
What is Angelina wearing on the academy awards.
How long have I been in here?
Can they hear me?
I’m feeling better now. A lot better. I can sit up, I can eat, and I can talk to people without sounding like a dying sad little crack whore. But I have still not left the apartment in like three or four days. Have hardly been talking to anybody and for sure haven’t been thinking for a second.
Time for me right now is an illusion, something that doesn’t matter. It don’t really matter which city I’m in. Which month it is or what time it is..
Time is something that slipped away… I just don’t care.
We live in our own little fantasy world. Me, Danny, Maria and Anna. We and the boys here are living here in our apartment in the centre of Sydney doing nothing. Cocking dinner, sleeping, watching movies…
Our own fantasy… nobody cares about jobs. Nobody cares about money. About anything.
About time.
I’ve lost track of time.
That’s when you start to questioning you’re existence. When you start wondering… is this real? And what is my purpose.
If I’m depressed? Hell no! In one way it’s liberating just shutting down your mind for a moment of time. Say hey man… I am taking a break from life.
But is it healthy?
At this time I’ve been sick laying in my bed for three days looking at the sealing with no thoughts what so ever, kind of looked at movies even if I didn’t really saw them and been sitting on the toilet.
Sitting on the toilet can be one of the most boring things you can do when you go there about fifteen times a night and about the double during the day.
Thoughts that crossed my mind during one of these times:
What if someone saw me right now?
Am I sitting the right way?
Is this a weird smell?
What is Angelina wearing on the academy awards.
How long have I been in here?
Can they hear me?
I’m feeling better now. A lot better. I can sit up, I can eat, and I can talk to people without sounding like a dying sad little crack whore. But I have still not left the apartment in like three or four days. Have hardly been talking to anybody and for sure haven’t been thinking for a second.
Time for me right now is an illusion, something that doesn’t matter. It don’t really matter which city I’m in. Which month it is or what time it is..
Time is something that slipped away… I just don’t care.
We live in our own little fantasy world. Me, Danny, Maria and Anna. We and the boys here are living here in our apartment in the centre of Sydney doing nothing. Cocking dinner, sleeping, watching movies…
Our own fantasy… nobody cares about jobs. Nobody cares about money. About anything.
About time.
I’ve lost track of time.
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