[dear,]
this color makes me think of genitals... i have every intention of sending this one. picture this... i'm in a dungeon. there's a boombox in the corner playing built to spill. a leopard print lamp bathes a mountain of empty packs of cigarettes surrounded by a forest of empty bottles of whiskey. i slip a hand into my purse and retrieve an optimistic-looking bottle of rum. with the other hand i pull a wide from a box beside the shot glass and place it between my lips. no immediate intention of roasting more cancer... it's undeniable. we're getting off track. i've taken a moment to gather my thoughts and vicodin... broken chairs faded out, i swallowed shot five and you know how i hate odd numbers... number six is easy unless you forgot where you last placed the lighter and realize you've switched shot glass with unlit cigarette for at least... the disc returns to track one... &... so what? it's on repeat... it's hitting me as hard as it has been pounding into my stomach all day. speculate. please. today began over thirty hours ago. can one day turn into another without pause? what occurred to me was the fact that i've eliminated yesterday. i left the dungeon earlier to stumble around work. a worried co-worker took me aside and told me, "if you don't sleep, YOU WILL DIE" so many rules. shot #7, hour thirty five. almost over. explanation; sleep is imminent with alcohol. if yesterday did exist, i was under the impression that i was suffering from a life threatening, alcohol induced illness. [i had no idea. some people call it "falling in love"] however, the true ailment is what began this "letter"* honesty begins with an attempt at empathy or a realization of guilt. both are in attendance. never expect me to fully explain. i attend waitress camp to earn dollars equivalent to a plane ticket, a printout that will eventually result in a naked, drunk girl residing in your naked, drunk arms..
do you like me?
cirlce
yes or no
*other than genital references
<3
angela
- posted by angela @ 4:09 PM