What if I suddenly wake up in a hospital bed... and ask the nurse (there must be a nurse) 'why am I here?... What's going on? What day is it?' and she says 'you've had a brain attack. It's July the 5th'?

That would be the mos realistic possibility to travel towards future in seconds.

I hate this month... hate classes... hate home (Home? I mean... Do I even have anywhere I could call 'home'?)... Hate my tiny red eyes in the mornings... my freezing fingers, the unestable pressure of water while taking showers... and the money bamboozling me as it goes in and out of my account.

And it is not enough.

And it is meaningless.