It’s dark. Seems like the power’s out again. Not that it matters to me. All I’ve seen for the past year is the same goddamn bit of ceiling and darkness. I couldn’t look at anything else unless someone else decided that I could. I hoped once again that my life support would give out and I would kick it. No such luck. I’ve been off the support for a while. Just a self sustaining vegetable now.

I had always hoped that if I ever found myself in this situation, someone would have the decency to off me. Unfortunately, I never got around to telling my family about it. Not really the easiest of topics to bring up on your biannual visits home.

I sometimes wish that that truck was moving either fast enough to kill me or slow enough to just break something and be done with it. Bit as my luck would have it, it was moving just at the right speed where it threw me off with enough force to merely break my neck and leave me in this state.

I don’t even remember what really happened. I was walking along the road, and a truck came barreling out of nowhere like a dog chasing a car. I just stood there and blinked a couple times.

“Well…F…”

Just like that it happened; in a flash. Wasn’t even trying to save a cute kid or a hot chick. Just walking along not paying attention to the world around me; the usual stuff.

Didn’t even get to complete my last words. And I had spent so much time thinking it up. Life’s a bitch as they say.

The driver came to apologise. Couldn’t really tell him that it’s cool, don’t worry about it. Wonder what was going through his head. Wonder where he is now and how he’s doing.

I wonder if he did anything dramatic. I hope he didn’t.

Mom cried when it happened. She cried a lot during those days. Not anymore. She stopped smiling too. She still talks, or tries to. She teIls me about her daily life, about my friends and distant family and sometimes about the stray dogs that live in our neighbourhood. She really doesn’t seem to know what else to do and I don’t know how long she can keep it up. It’s kinda hard to have a conversation with a wall. But it’s some kind of human interaction.

Dad kinda just comes here to watch movies with me. He was never really a movie buff and always picks the very obvious choices. Still fun though; beggars can’t be choosers and anything kinda works for me.

There is one thing that really bothers me though. Through all of this, there’s that one thing that keeps nagging at my mind. At times it seems to consume my thoughts and at other times it’s just a nagging, buzzing thought in the corner of my mind, but it’s always there. It’s probably the only thing I really miss. It’s not really anything big or great, but at times like these, it’s the little things that really matter.

Little things like being able to scratch my nuts. Seriously you will never know how much a man can miss scratching his nuts.

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