Awake and
take my pills.
Then rot in bed.
Scroll, scroll..
I am alive.
Awake in dreams..
again I’m dead.
I sleep around
some more.

Awake.
Drag me to
shower.
Then to car.
And then
to work.

Command,
command.
Script, script.
Code, code,
code, code.
Computer hears me.
Program executed.
I go home.

Nothing to write.
Nothing to do.
It’s dark.
I am alone.
Someone is
watching me..
I feel another
presence.
A disturbance
in the air..
But friend or foe?

Watching me
watch them
watch me
through
my eyes..
is that a psychic tickle
or an existential threat
waiting to strike?

I lock
the door.
Nobody
knocks.
No guest
to host.
It must be my
imagination.
Must be Death,
of course…

Frozen between
my impulses
primordial..
To fight or flee?
On second thought
nothing to worry of..
it shouldn’t make
a difference to me.

Death merely comes
to wake the butterfly
I dreamt of yesterday..
from dreams
of being

Steve.
Your friendly
neighborhood
co-fluctuation
in the universal
field.