personal blog: simon
I open my eyes. it’s bright outside. I’m still clothed in the same cloths from yesterday. pillow under my head. blanket covering my body. how did I lose time? fuck. where am I? the morning of having too many and not able to recall what happened. but, I didn’t have too many. I dozed off in an unfamiliar place and I slept without a glitch through out the night first time in a long time. in a long time without nightmares. my skin, however, feels weird.
the half eaten pizza slice is the give-away clue and I jump to a sitting position startled and distorted. my fatigue, the drug that put me into comatose and I dread the most unnerving fact… I lost control. I don’t lose control, not with men. maybe I twist in the wind in the ambivalence of my life but I say how and what when it comes to men… but now, I cannot account as to what happened in the past nine hours.
read more: ← monday 21:58 • tuesday 07:37 →
© simon whittle — second act