Fall asleep thinking about everything you could be watching on TV
and every opinion you ever held about people who don't like
the Beatles
and whether or not it's worth it to beat a
world record if that's all you would be remembered for
and
home and what exactly it is that makes it worth going back to
and how you really don't know if your head is lumpy or not until it's shaved
and how hard it is know someone let alone trust them
and what would happen if the
moon was made out of cheese while the earth was the
center of the universe
and
agnosticism
and cowardice
and taking a
vow of silence to discover what it is about words that means so little
and why some people are doomed to live with
addictive personalities
and when you stopped calling your mom "mommy"
and the difference between
love and being in love with love
and wishing you knew whatever happened to
Portugal and its place as a world power
and how everyone reminds you of someone else
and how no one ever asks you if you're ready for life
and the music you used to listen to in
middle school
and breakfast
and cliche people and their damned cliched responses
and the idea of
body modification across history
and why the fuck you're always so lonely, by yourself or in a crowd.
All in the time it takes for your body to slip into its gradual, nightly paralysis.