In this empty room again. What time is it? My bed is disheveled and I’m still in the same clothes I put on 2 days ago. I reach through my bedroom curtains and pull aside the blinds. It’s sunny.
I see the fresh cut grass, I open the window, finally fresh air.
I see a glimmer of hope but what am I waiting for? I look down at my bedroom floor and I’m immediately reminded of the vices I have partaken in.
I gasp and pound my fist to the bed. “Get your shit together,” I tell myself. I find myself saying these words often.
Sometimes I wake up in the early morning hours and say “This is the day” but honestly nothing comes of it. Today, today is the day. I’m finally going to get my shit together.
I put on my favorite song and hop in the shower. Today is the day.