The clock holds me nowhere. Nowhere. Nowhere. There is nothing else but now and the shifting depth of the night. I sit at a table alone smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee and listening and surviving. I should not be here or anywhere. Furthermore, I should not be breathing or taking space. Furthermore, I should not have been given this moment or anything else. Furthermore, I should not have this opportunity again to live. Furthermore, I do not deserve it or deserve anything, yet it is here, and I am here, and I Have it all of it still. Furthermore, I won't have it again. This moment or this chance they are the same, and they are mine if I choose them and I do. I want them. Now and as long as I can have them they are both precious and fleeting and gone in the blink of an eye don't waste them. A moment and an opportunity and a life, all in the unseen tick of a clock holding me nowhere. My heart is beating. The walls are pale and quiet. I am surviving.

A Million Little Pieces