Pea Soup

It isn't morning, it isn't evening, it isn't noon, or night, or any other time at all. It's pea soup time, when the world is so thick with fog you can't see yourself sneeze. Every time I opened my eyes there it was, pea soup, and so my eyes closed right up. I can't keep my eyes open when that thick glaze fills the space between myself and every other object in existence. Three times, I tried to wake, arise, all that, each time conquered by pea soup. It's humiliating.