may 10

i looked at the time on my phone, it was 3:00. i looked at my other phone, it was the same there too. then i turned on the flash on that same phone and looked at my wristwatch, it was the same too. i was sure that if i had looked at the computer, i would get the same result. i was terrified. 

i remember looking at virtual calendars. there are tables with lines and numbers are written on them. i swiped and the months changed. on other calendars, they are all the same and they all say the same thing. even though thoughts like "it's unclear what tomorrow will bring" are prevalent, according to the calendars, tomorrow is tuesday, may 10. it is completely predetermined what time it will be and when.  

i know with more certainty than calendars and clocks that tomorrow i will play 101 while watching a movie. i will think about how i watched the worst version of apocalypse now and wonder how different the theatrical cut would be. 

after not getting up from my seat for hours, i will go out to smoke, i will think about why one of my slippers was wet yesterday, and i will plan what i would do in potential situations i might experience with dogs. i will grow weary of the pointlessness of my anxieties, tell myself that it's all related to chemicals in my brain and that i just need to wait for the barking of the worries to subside. and as i sit down at the computer, i will spend time agonizing over which 'a' i should use with circumflex in the word alâkalı.

numbers will probably come to mind again. i will find it funny that the devil's lucky numbers were invented long after the devil himself. the hour will come when i will envy everyone who is used to just watching numbers change places. i will research what to do to not dream, secretly rejoice at myself for not finding anything and fall asleep. 

my calendar is more insignificant and more predictable than everyone else's. it is more merciless than numbers and it doesn't lead anywhere funny.