Awaking to any colour of sky, each morning at the same time. Hear the humdrum of the vehicles as they pass by on the city streets, a substitute alarm to that by my bedside. The invisible hand pulls me from the mattress and I break into my daily routine, going through oh so familiar motions.
First day of the week, progressing fine. Second day of the week, getting by. Third and fourth days of the week are sluggish as usual. Last day of the week just makes me want to escape away.
Days off are days of luxury. Free days to do what I choose to, sticking to a plan or no plan at all. Enjoy them whilst they are here for they pass all too quickly, wrapping the week around once again. Cherish their value for they are yours to enjoy and utilise as you please.
Keep it brief but await The Seventh, soon.
Days off are days of luxury. Free days to do what I choose to, sticking to a plan or no plan at all. Enjoy them whilst they are here for they pass all too quickly, wrapping the week around once again. Cherish their value for they are yours to enjoy and utilise as you please.
Keep it brief but await The Seventh, soon.
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