You are smoking pot.Big curling ribbons of yellow smoke covering up your room like the fog covers a highway on a cold winter morning!
You see the your clothes moving inside the washing machine.
Oh there is my dirty under wear!
Your in a meeting with suited and booted publishers.Your agent trying his best to convince them that your next book wont be a disaster!
Your washing the dishes.You see a leftover meatball crawling its way from the greasy plate and descending into the dark hole of the sink!
You are in a bar in situated in the middle of nowhere until the bartender calls out loud
Oh there is the shirt you wore when you were walking in the rain with the love of your life!Memory is too like a splash of oil paint on a skinny wall,it fades with time!
Your agent finally convinced them of something.You dont know what it is because frankly in this phase of life you just dont give a fuck about anything!
The deserted meat ball is enjoy freedom in the drains of the public sewer!
In this phase of life you only tell the bartender about what you are thinking to write!They seem like the only people who care and maybe its because your drunk!Every inch of your stomach filled with alcohol!
You sometimes come across your old nemesis,in my case unpaid bills and rents!