You're awake again.

Your laptop is sideways on your comforter, where you never turned it off or unplugged it. It has to be frying the thing's guts, but you can't find it in yourself to care. You don't really know what time it is—your alarm clock reset itself and you never fixed it—but the screen's glow is the only source of light keeping your messy room from swallowing you whole.

You should be asleep, but your brain won’t shut up. Too late, or maybe too early. Some useless hour that doesn’t matter anymore.

You pull it into your lap. The pain of the sudden heat doesn't bother your skin anymore. You'd be shocked if you weren't infertile, not that a single female would ever let you get close enough to knock her up. You filter through your tabs, closing porn sites (because in retrospect the sight of it makes bile rise in your throat) until all that's left is a few forums.