I was fairily certain when you waved your hand and declined the phone, the only phone we have at the moment that you would be regretting it all of .3 seconds after my bus gained altitude and left you behind which felt all too wrong. And as soon as I couldn't see you it became a sickening reminder of how surreal our lives had become.

It seems to me that we're in tears constantly, and smoke too much, and the more our home looks like a caterpillars den the more I see the way the savagery of the American dream has spun us around and gang fucked us.

Now is the time I would pray to a God, if I believed in God. But the only God I've ever truly known glows brightly and speaks the Hollywood truths that I've always known as gospel.

I arrived home in a pannick... panic and had a long shattering cry. And then a slow shakey one, sitting alone in the dark with only Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas to keep me company with no solace to speak of.

My mind still reeling from the tears, I convinced myself not to work or play video games. So instead, I sat like a fuck with Wii-mote in hand just in case the film should end and I am alone again.

I smoked a cig and think maybe I can get through the night.

Fucking maybe.

... welcome to the happy place.

Yes
No
Do nothing