SCRIPT My own linear, yet corrupted, timeline – draft

It surprises me how much the world carries on when I’m not looking

There’s an exercise bike in my room

More mould about the shower

A new toilet seat

My soap has been used

There are new trinkets on the window sill

There’s an egg holder in the kitchen

More of the paint has been scratched away

And a new book on the table

I no longer feel attached to this timeline

My personality resigned to a bookshelf and some draws

My existence in this space has been dismantled

It’s now just an area that I just happen to be occupying and some of my possessions just happen to be in it. But this space is not mine

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