And the walls keep closing in

tried to drink wine to be a classy lady

went out in my grandmother’s long black one sleeved dress with a slit all the way up….. drank wine, looked amazing and classy for about an hour…

Then slid down the slippery slide of the evening, my descent lubricated by whatever anybody was buying, jagermeister, jagermeister, vodka, whiskey, wine… buckfast. buckfast.

In the gay bar I pretended to be a transvestite to some ignorant country girls, fat and wide eyed stupid on their night out to “not get sleazed on for a change”

I felt like they believed me but the lack of an adams apple is probably a dead giveaway.

Danced so badly the guys who were with me (who were they anyway?) laughed and imitated my moves.

My friend was chatting to a hot swedish guy called tim who I loudly declared was Tim, nice but dim….

Wound up back in her house drinking more wine and then i was in a bed being woken up to get a taxi and i dont know how i got there or what the rest of the night was like.

I feel rough, rough, rough.

Don’t even have any solpadeine left, or maybe i do but I cant remember the strategic hiding places around the room where I have previously strewn them to never run out again.

Too hung over to look, too hung over to sleep, too hung over to vomit and too hung over to shower…

Hot date tonight with my sexy french lover… he texted me last night, can’t wait to see you… Mmm nice…

Wish he was here now, stroking my thigh and kissing the fear away.

Am in no condition to entertain though. Apartment messy, messy as fuck, all my clothes lying limp around the room where I tried and rejected them last night.

Shoes everywhere, dishes stacked in the sink smelling foul. I smell foul.. I smelt good last night and I looked good but I can only keep that up for so long. Feel veryill…

I wish I could sleep or throw up or get a shower and get dressed and leave the house and buysolpadeine and ribena and orange juice and meat and cook them all well not together, and have some meat to eat and have a warm body to press against me and sweet words to lull me back, back to goodness and sweet weekend bliss.

I am too hung over right now to do any of that, but it would be glorious.

I want him here, I sent him a message but he’s probably busy achieving things and being active and using muscles in a way I never have or could.

I have the fear and the walls are around me and I just heard the sweet ring of my phone and I thought, I hoped it was him but it wasn’t, it was my mother…. fuck.

tomorrow is fathers day. Text your stepdad tomorrow, ok?

Fucks sake mother can’t you see I want my phone to tell me when my lover texts me, I was so excited….

I am going to try and expell some badness either by vomiting or showering. Happy fathers day to ye all


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