I do not want to go back to work tomorrow.

I want to run away. Far and wide, anywhere, somewhere, here and there, everywhere, nowhere. Just something different that isn't the same, a little slice of something, of life, of joy, of peace. No more calls, just out in the world to be, to exist as if I was a timeless entity, which is how I feel most of the time, if only anyone would listen. No debt, no indebtedness, no love, no hate, no embarassment, nothing to remind me of anything, because I like not being reminded that I have obligations to attend to, as if the world will collapse if I don't hold it up. Free to be a person in the world, the silent observer, hiding, watching, breathing, living for the fall of a leaf, a blade of grass, a sliver of joy.

Instead, I will go to bed, alone, dream my dreams of other planets, of love, of hate, of magic, and then the buzzer will ring, and I will wake up again, clothe myself, and steel myself for the fresh new hell that awaits me.

Fuck if that doesn't annoy me. Now I'm determined to finish my story, because I think people will read it. And it doesn't remind me of anything.