To wait for an email is one of the hardest things to do, especially when you have nothing else on your mind. What’s ridiculous is the fact that you have 9 unread messages in your inbox, all sent by you. You wonder what was it that was so important yet so personal, that you couldn’t say it to your face.

Why email you schizophrenic maniac?

Yet… you choose not to read them, and wait for another email that you’re damn sure won’t make you feel any better.

Technically speaking, you’re only staring at wires.

Fifteen years ago, no one would have thought that ones and zeros could work magic to a soul.

Wake up.

You’ve turned off the air conditioner just to be able to hear the doorbell. You’re sweating like crazy. Doesn’t matter. You’ll shower once you’ve accomplished your mission.

Riddle me this. Riddle me that.

What do you want out of life?

Why are you here?

I keep having the wildest ideas. At one point, I remember, I was a very wild person. Everything used to be for the taking. Now… nothing really matters enough. Everything is boring. People bore the hell out of me. Movies, cigarettes, music, chit-fuckin-chat… nothing does the job intended. My dark prince keeps giving me hints and clues about where to go from here and what to want out of it all.

Should I just follow his ambitions to raise my name up in the stars of lowlife temptations and bloodlust?

There is no shame in having fun, he says. Be open-minded and do whatever the fuck you want.

He’s totally wrong. He is totally fucked up.

Still… I can’t help but listen.

I hate his addictive tone.

Yet… I have him on repeat mode, deliberately.