I feel rather empty. I go to work, do my job the best I can feeling pretty much nothing. I go home, disappearing away in a crowd of early winter coats; faces are blurred as I walk past them without much of a glance, and as I find a seat on the train, I gaze vacantly ahead, my thoughts lost in a fog for the most part. I emerge into the cool breeze of night fallen too swiftly, feeling nothing. The sound of voices echoing in the near distance, from a pub nearby a light chatter and the knocking of glass... still, I feel nothing.
I look at people around me, and all I really see is giant envelops full of words. Just words, more words, like a deluge that never ends. My head doesn't listen anymore, it's learned too well to filter out the noise and skim through the garbage of mindless sounds called words.
I go home and sit at my desk, light up a cigarette while thinking I should quit, and stare at the computer screen for a moment or two as I wait for some music to numb the air around me.
And then the day rewinds to tomorrow.
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