This is what it feels like to me
Last night, around 11pm, I smoked a cigarette on my front porch while staring at the stars and listening to the highway traffic buzz through my neighbor's perfectly trimmed lawns--the neighbors who don't acknowledge me. The wind blew. I made my way back inside my house. I awoke at 2am. My throat felt like I had been trying to swallow my comforter. My inhales smelled of phlegm and the taste of something sweet deep within my throat. As though gravity was working in reverse, there was a constant upward pushing in my head until it hit the ceiling, even though I was still in my bed. My usual thoughts of high-end gaming equipment, sex with multiple women, and even my sports fantasies of me being a major league baseball pitcher who started every game of a season and struck out every batter, weren't there. There were no thoughts at all. I was just laying there with me and my thoughtless thoughts, starting to feel sick with a cold.