I'm bored and just saw this subforum so I decided to write something 
10:34am, Sunday morning. My eyes open half-way, and I stare at the grain through the lacquer on my bathroom door. My bed is shaking... I beat the wall with my fist, challenging the resonating bass of my neighbour's sound system. I get up because I feel uncomfortably numb staying in bed but I'd rather not be conscious at all. The bed stops shaking. Yawning, I grab sunglasses and shuffle into the bathroom. Light bathes me as I enter, casting brilliant blue reflections off the sparkling porcelain. I could really use a curtain to shield the two beautiful plants growing in the corner. I examine them, smiling... but I feel a pang of guilt for the hours I've wasted because of them, and the sickly sweet hours that will become a fantastic blur because of them. I wash my face in liquid ice. It's so warm that the faucet quickly coats with a matte layer of condensation. I wipe it off and grin at my warped reflection. The clock reads 10:42 as I walk back into the bedroom. I can see frost outside the window, but my south-facing wall of glass creates an organic furnace inside; motivating my tired muscles into motion. I decide to seek refuge next door; my neighbour has better blinds and a busted heater. My fine-tuned olfactory senses immediately recognize the smell that greets me as I step into the hallway. It reminds me of what I had forgotten. I turn back into my apartment and grab a bud, and fill my "I'M the MAN" mug with something cold and sweet from the fridge. I'll need it to soothe the thirst that will come. My neighbour's apartment is refreshingly cool. He's just finished rolling a joint, but I don't mind. Ackowledging my entrance, he looks up at me and turns the volume dial back to the right. I reveal my bud and he grins. It's Sunday morning, we've got time for two joints...
10:34am, Sunday morning. My eyes open half-way, and I stare at the grain through the lacquer on my bathroom door. My bed is shaking... I beat the wall with my fist, challenging the resonating bass of my neighbour's sound system. I get up because I feel uncomfortably numb staying in bed but I'd rather not be conscious at all. The bed stops shaking. Yawning, I grab sunglasses and shuffle into the bathroom. Light bathes me as I enter, casting brilliant blue reflections off the sparkling porcelain. I could really use a curtain to shield the two beautiful plants growing in the corner. I examine them, smiling... but I feel a pang of guilt for the hours I've wasted because of them, and the sickly sweet hours that will become a fantastic blur because of them. I wash my face in liquid ice. It's so warm that the faucet quickly coats with a matte layer of condensation. I wipe it off and grin at my warped reflection. The clock reads 10:42 as I walk back into the bedroom. I can see frost outside the window, but my south-facing wall of glass creates an organic furnace inside; motivating my tired muscles into motion. I decide to seek refuge next door; my neighbour has better blinds and a busted heater. My fine-tuned olfactory senses immediately recognize the smell that greets me as I step into the hallway. It reminds me of what I had forgotten. I turn back into my apartment and grab a bud, and fill my "I'M the MAN" mug with something cold and sweet from the fridge. I'll need it to soothe the thirst that will come. My neighbour's apartment is refreshingly cool. He's just finished rolling a joint, but I don't mind. Ackowledging my entrance, he looks up at me and turns the volume dial back to the right. I reveal my bud and he grins. It's Sunday morning, we've got time for two joints...
