The fall. With the fall comes the inevitable rise, slow but existent, pulling myself up with an antique, rusted pulley system.


My watch broke a few days ago. Now the display constantly cycles: hour, minute, month, day, seconds. My whole day broken down into mere numbers and digits.

The rise is gradual and not always consistent. Inches and feet, sometimes gained, sometimes lost. A constant up and down. It is a wonder I do not vomit all over myself, but I manage to hold things down.