You eat. You drink. You wake and try to sleep. You write or not. They call or won’t. The sun will shine or it will rain. You notice this; you may choose to ignore it. There’s work to be done; there always is. You wonder why you’re staring at a wall or at someone who won’t stop talking. Your mind’s not here, and neither is your heart. Soon you will leave, whether you can or should not.
The things you do when you’re alone, they’re not that much different from things when you’re not.