The Mundane Journal Entries of an Ordinary Person

Season: Autumn

Weather: Hot

Day of the week: Friday

Date: 22nd March, 2024

I think I'm sick. After finishing writing everything, I keep slipping into waking nightmares. I feel at turns hot and then cold.

I'm thirsty but I can't get up. I want to go to the toilet but I can't get up. I feel dizzy and nauseous.

My legs won't take my weight.

I can't get to the kitchen to do anything, so I haven't been able to eat. I don't have any appetite anyway.

I think the doorbell has been ringing. My mobile has run out of battery. I can't get up to worry about them.

I think I may be on the slippery slope heading toward death. I hope I can die properly and nobody revives me in time.

I'm dirty now. Who would want me? I can't wash the feel of that person off me. I can still smell him and feel him.

I'd rather die. It's better to die.

Nobody would really care except for the landlord and neighbours when they smell the rot of my decaying body.

I don't have anything to live for anyway. I don't know what to do with myself.

Mm. Die.