I try to puke quietly as if not to wake you.
When I find that is impossible I can hear your voice in my head, asking if I'm ok.
It doesn't come.
As I stare into my own bial I feel a sick sense of serenity.
There is not a glimmer of shame in me.
I just puked up everything from the last 5 hours.
I could totally do this more.
Then I look in the mirror.
There is nothing like it.
My face is red and swollen.
My eyes bloodshot.
There is a rash on my chest.
Wow Sunday, is this what you want?
Thursday, March 3, 2011
“Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will never have a decent night’s sleep again and will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting, in their heart of hearts, that they will remain unloved forever. The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake somebody else up, so that they can feel this way, too.”
at 1:25 PM