We’d wake up every day, wouldn’t we, we’d lie there looking at the wall or looking at the closely weaved cotton of the sheet. We’d look through the little crack in the blind to see what kind of day it is and that one by three centimetre view we’d judge our entire day. If it was all blue we’d think it was a lovely day. If it was grey we’d think it is a different kind of lovely day. The colour checks to see if it matches with what we are feeling. If we are ashamed and depressed then the little piece of bright light blue is cajoling, mocking. If we are ashamed and fearful and depressed the grey is a blessing, it says “go on, stay in, stay in and read. Don’t bother talking to anyone”. We’d do different things you and I but we’d eat something. We’d eventually go and let the piss stream out of us, eventually. The smell of our own urine comes stronger in the morning,  we are like doctors, we are checking ourselves, we are looking at our tongues together, pink is good. If we are scared and sick our tongues are white and our piss is dark and our face is sullen and your eyes are crying out to remember something, looking at someone in the mirror trying to remember to want. It’s not the same every morning, no! It is mostly the same every morning, some mornings you are not alone and you cannot smell anything but the coffee that someone else has made and that they have opened the blinds too early and it all feels different and fresh and alive and you piss quickly to get rid of it like an animal does, cover it up. Brush your teeth the same way still staring at yourself, your worried look, your rushed worried look, your purposeful look. Body Maintenance: Not Dead. It doesn’t matter about the ‘sky’. We’re just sitting together with hot coffee and talking about, oh, what was it? I think I said I have to brush my teeth again and you smiled, sorry, they smiled, but not for any reason, but something happened the night before, something…we don’t know anymore because it is not something we want to remember. Just the morning, that different morning where everything was more than usual, and fast and light. We don’t always start like this. In the morning. It’s very much in the afternoon at our desks too when we are sitting there, looking at all the little things on the desk surrounding a luminous flat screen. We are still checking the sky to see what it wants us to do, we are still letting the day go on, we are still pissing in the afternoon, clear, clean, empty urine. There’s nothing we forgot. We wouldn’t be able to work right away, not for a little while. Oh I guess other people would talk to us, wouldn’t they? Asking mainly. We’d have to look at them together and smile perhaps and talk. Answer mainly. Answer them right away. I would even last three days like that sometimes. Three whole days of waking up and answering questions and looking at my eyes and pissing and eating like that. Looking at the sky to see what it was supposed to be like today. Sometimes we’d listen out especially well, there’d been a time together and we heard so well, so clear. We weren’t alone then, in a small room, the sky was bright blue and then sun was the lightest clean white on the carpet, on my leg. Like a perfect day. We’ll be out of there soon, outside, alone. We’d wake up like that again, with coffee and the blinds drawn to wake me up so I can have a shower in time to get the train you’d say. Mostly you’d get up first like that and make the coffee. I remember. I didn’t forget you. Sometimes five days goes by like this.