Hopped Up on Legal Drugs and Procrastination

Our subject is swimming in the luke-warm pool of a caffiene / nicotene overdose with just hint of sleep deprivation. His eyes slide in and out of focus, and as he sits down, the world begins to slip out from underneath him. He can feel bland scrambled eggs and burnt bacon sloshing around in his intestines. His mind races as he thinks of nothing at all. He's having a hard time keeping his mind on one

When he walked to work this morning, he was shivering. He thought it was because it was somewhat cold out. When he got inside he didn't stop shivering. Clenching his fists was the only way to stop his hands from shaking. He feels his hand begining to tremble again.

An incredible apathy washes over our subject and he realizes that at this moment he doesn't give one damn about this meaningless world. Time is just a matter of perspective; reality is a construct of the mind. Our subject is so fucking profound.

Sex.

The lights all seem dim, the noises so distant. Our subject feels as thought he is outside of his body watching himself on TV. He is watching his not-so-story-book life scroll up a computer screen, line after line of his justifications and explanations slowly gliding upward like movie credits. All the while impressively juvenile metaphors float through his cranium, distracting his attempt at concentrating on one thing. It's not working, and realizing that it isn't working gives him something to concentrate on.

Earlier, when our subject was crossing the street, a person not five feet in front of him tripped on the curb and fell. Our subject didn't even look to see if the fallen person got back up. Our subject begins to think it will be "cool" to try and stay up for 48 hours.