Gibberish

Sitting here alone in the hotel room, listening to meaningless songs, smoking my lungs black, wondering when the present becomes the past. Creeping under the blanky, snuggly but no warmth. Sipping my wine, imagining the new year being a good one, lighting yet another cigarette. Thinking of nonsense, counting the cigarette buds, squinting in the dark, hating the night. Hoping to sit here for the longest time, typing away whatever, whenever. Wasting away slowly but surely. Died yet still alive, awaiting for help, eyes closing, counting down, ilogically. Ahh that song.....