Nausea. A light head. A detached view of the world. Throwing back tonic limes. Wishing each sip takes me back to the day when it all went south. To change something. To make this current reality different. Existential paradoxes and parallel realities run through my head. I am Schrodinger's Cat. Both alive and dead in a quantum reality.
Another friend writes me a letter telling me I am starting to be cold with her.
I am stuck in 5 hours of rain soaked traffic jams.
I come back to a house full of drunk people who can barely stand straight.
I have been awake 48 hours without sleeping.
A hookah is lit. The pearlescent smoke creates stable building ground for my alternate realities.
On the "drive" (stuck in traffic) back, I kept thinking. What would i say? How would i say it? Would i be cold? Would I be overenthusiastic? Would i burst out into tears? Would my head just explode with all the stress? Would i lose all bowel and bladder control?
I get to my "fortress of solitude".
Nothing. A fake smile. A superficial hug. Looks purposely avoiding my eyes. A cold reception as there could be one.
More to come.
Another friend writes me a letter telling me I am starting to be cold with her.
I am stuck in 5 hours of rain soaked traffic jams.
I come back to a house full of drunk people who can barely stand straight.
I have been awake 48 hours without sleeping.
A hookah is lit. The pearlescent smoke creates stable building ground for my alternate realities.
On the "drive" (stuck in traffic) back, I kept thinking. What would i say? How would i say it? Would i be cold? Would I be overenthusiastic? Would i burst out into tears? Would my head just explode with all the stress? Would i lose all bowel and bladder control?
I get to my "fortress of solitude".
Nothing. A fake smile. A superficial hug. Looks purposely avoiding my eyes. A cold reception as there could be one.
More to come.
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