i spend most of my days lying about in fields of sparse, dying vegetation. i talk to my kitty and call him lazybones. we go on adventures together in my dreams. someday i will wake up but not today. i told her, let’s go back to my place, we can go to the rooftop and look at the city lights and think about our lives, but, regretfully, she saw through my lies. nothing lasts forever, except for death. the spastic rhythm of my heartbeat keeps me up at night; i’m sweating, palpitating, my organs are rebelling against my body. the clock strikes four. ever. never. every second of every hour of every day i think about how much i hate ants.