Grey

"He woke up to find the weight of the world on this shoulders, how could you move when the weight of the world were pressing you down, holding you down like a rapist about to take what he/she is not given. So, he stayed in bed, and thought about how nothing was right with his life, with his being. The job was a sinecure that provided a grizzly pay, the car was a lemon; he remember not long ago he’d swear to never be caught dead in anything that resembled it. It was funny he thought, now he could literally be found dead in it. The “love life” was… there was no “love life” to put an adjective to. What conceivable reason did he have to roll out of his sack of hey on this day, what did he have to look forward to? As he formulated those thoughts, tears ran down the side of his face and settled in his earlobe."