Tomorrow comes.
On my futon mattress next to the window, I wake up automatically in the early morning darkness, outpacing my alarm clock. My two eyes are the eyes of an uncertain someone, whose head tells him that something is terribly wrong. These are the same thoughts that have occupied my head for a long time now, and the act of ignoring them comes naturally to me. I want to lie in bed, curl into a ball and let things take their course, but then I realize that I still have a job, and that it needs going to.
Well, why not? Until my heart stops, until the world ends, until something better comes along. Why not?