Nyctophilia

Three.

I don't like Mondays.

Or Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays.

It's like a never-ending cycle, you know? Every day's the same, but you can feel yourself changing. It's like you're not even the same as you were yesterday. You feel like you're not yourself anymore. With everything else going on in your life, you take comfort knowing that you're still the same person as you were before.

It's like that's taken from me, too, and I'm left fending for myself. I can't tell you for sure, but I imagine it's the same as it would be if you were in space: just an infinite amount of nothingness, blackness, and without anything to hold onto, you're just suspended in nothing, forever, until you die.

Wow, this is depressing.