You know how it is. When you wake up violently immersed in darkness. Maybe you laid down in bed at 6:30 in the evening and now it’s maybe 4 in the morning? But, you have no hope of making a guess. Actually, you beer-drank yourself into a coma again, but for now you’re so completely disoriented that you don’t have the faintest grasp on any facet or shadow of reality. You don’t know where you are, when you are, or have any context about who you are. There isn’t even a you to know that there is a who you are.

Jolting, stiff-limbed, at an impossible angle off of the edge of the mattress and clamoring with lizard instinct toward nothing in particular; you’re groping out of the vague need to do something with your arms. Blindly you frankenstein your way toward the portal, ping-ponging the walls on your way down the hall. You are an articulated roomba whose internal organs are cocked and loaded.

And for those few moments until you regain your bearings; How cold and frightening, how you couldn’t comprehend, how fucked up it was until you’ve had some cold water on your face? And reflecting on that moment when you had no profile, no personality, no value, no soul, no brand, no self, and the happy pink frogs leap from between your legs?

You’re actually snoring on the shitter.

The dog regards you with a rehearsed suspicion.