It’s more about thinking if you’re dead or not, what if you repeat all your actions in your head when you’re laying unconscious, smiling at all those people walking around in circles around your body humming songs in their heads which were once in yours. 

And then you start thinking what’s really relevant when you strum yourself to the guitar. 

And then a bunch of images appear like meeting Meg for instance or Karen taking the kids away last night leaving me in an empty house as I walked in room by room turning off the lights and then going around with a lighter listening to turntables.

I put on Bowie with Moonage Daydream.

I recall calling Meg and telling her about how weird it was and I kept flicking my lighter on an off, trying to light an imaginary roll of tobacco and nearly burning my lip.

READ MORE THE WHITE STRIPES FANFICTION AT GRASPTHESANITY