conversation between me and myself-4 am and not enough whiskey to drown in

Would you like to go to sleep now?

Yes- yeah, please.

Would you like to turn off the fan?


Do you think it’ll be better tomorrow?

I don’t know- but coffee roll for breakfast.

Did you just cry through every YouTube video, song, Voice Battle, and washing your face?

Yep. Go me.

Do you think it’ll get easier tomorrow- this….weight?

What do you think I want- huh? If I want to move, and I still stay shock still, wearing inertia like an overcoat- do you think- maybe I just don’t want it bad enough?

I think I wish you were drunk right now.

I wish I’d never been born, you know. 

I know.

But life’s beautiful. I’m not ready to give it up- there’s so many holes I gotta fill. So much shit to work with-

Do you think I can?


Is it supposed to rain tomorrow?


Would be nicer to jog in the rain- less people, more refreshing.

Who are we fooling? Who’s doing the out-of-bed prerequisite to jogging, huh?

Do you wish you can unzip your bones and let your soul out, free- let it crawl under Someone Else’s rib cage and swaddle itself in their warmth and Otherness?

Yes. All the time.

Are you crying? Like, again?


I’m sorry.

Yeah, me too.



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