i wake up at 11am, but don't get out of bed until it's already half-past twelve. there's chatter in the other room, or the whirring of a printer, or quiet footsteps, or silence, or silence interspersed by fluting birdsong. it depends.
i lay there. for hours, maybe. i don't know. i guess i should eat something. i guess the blanket is uncomfortably hot. i guess my mouth is dry, and the water bottle is only a few inches away. but i won't do anything.
cyclical. i guess that's the word i'd use. spinning around and around and around until i collapse with unfocused eyes, the world swaying. a perfect circle, no visible seams to pry at. i guess i feel the same exhaustion waking up as i do going to bed.
i'm laying on my side, staring at a wall. no real reason for me to stop.
did the memory problems cause the monotony or did the monotony cause the memory problems? it feels like a question i've already asked. my thoughts go in circles, too.