Woke up. Not sure why.
Didn’t set an alarm. Didn’t need one.
Just opened my eyes and said okay. I guess.

Put on jeans. Black shirt. Same socks from yesterday. Probably.
No breakfast. No coffee. No hunger. Just the ritual of skipping it.

Went outside. Didn’t lock the door.
Don’t even know why I used to.
The kind of neighbourhood where no one steals, they just borrow forever.

Took the long way. Not for the view. Just didn’t want to pass the guy who always smiles.
Not in the mood to be perceived.

Crossed three streets without looking.
Not to die.
Just didn’t care enough to check.
It’s different.

Walked into Shoppers. Bought toothpaste and a lighter.
Don’t smoke. Never have.
But something about buying a lighter makes the day feel more functional.
Like maybe I’ll use it.
For something. Eventually.

Passed a dog tied to a bench.
He looked at me. I didn’t look back.
Not out of cruelty. Just didn’t want to be understood.

Stood in front of a vending machine for seven minutes.
Didn’t buy anything.
Read all the labels like they were instructions for life.
None of them applied.

Took a bus I didn’t need to take.
Just sat near the back.
Watched buildings go by like static on an old TV.
Got off six stops later.
No reason.

Saw a guy arguing with a parking meter.
Not metaphorically.
Just. Actual guy. Actual meter. Actual yelling.
Didn’t stop. Didn’t judge. Just noticed.

Ate a sandwich from a 7 Eleven.
It tasted like time wasted.

Walked into the afternoon like it owed me something.
Shoulders squared. Jaw set.
Every step a threat I didn’t follow through on.

Held a coffee like a weapon.
Didn’t drink it. Just clenched.
Heat bleeding through the cup, into the palm, into the bone.

Then someone said my name.
Not a shout. Just casual. Like they knew me.
I didn’t turn around.
Just stood there.
Still.

Waited until they gave up.
Walked the other way.
Faster than before.

Didn’t check who it was.
Didn’t want to know.
Just knew that if I saw their face, something would split.