#52
There must be a trace, something. A cigarette butt, ash, wheel marks, a hair, some proof. But I can find nothing. The place just looks like it's been the victim to a night of drunken rage. And maybe that's the truth? Maybe that angry sound which rumbles in the breeze and makes drunks shout at walls and beat up dustbins, maybe it was here and I tried to smash the hell out of it? After all, in order to escape me, my lover jumped through an asylum window. That fact eating away at a drunk and sedated mind would rile up anyone! Maybe in my drunk tank I saw John imbued in every object? His influence in every thought and action I made? Blamed him for my drunkenness, my misery, my life. And God, I need someone to blame for my life, because sitting in amongst the wreckage, it's not a pleasant one to be in. damn you! I curse my mother, my father, the forceps and the midwife! Everyone and thing that played a part in leading me here. I look down at my feet, and I curse them too.
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Yes - blame everyone but yourself!
ReplyDeleteYou have more in common with my nephew than you think.
The fact that you are eager to recklessly engage in sexual practices which are not only unnatural and unGodly but also 'unsafe' leads me to wonder if you are a victim of The Gay Disease.
A symptom of which,I believe,is Dementia...
Mrs Winthrope, how can I catch the 'San Francisco Flu', I'm in London! As for Dementia, well, I'm not gonna deny that. But at least with me being 'demented' you're not alone. X
ReplyDeleteAs for having a lot in common with your nephew. Please, i'm almost suicidal as it is!
You're losing your marbles. Completely deluded. I can't be in two places at the same time, and i was here, passing a "quite traumatic" night.
ReplyDeleteGlad.the.fish.is.ok.heart.breaking.stuff.
Tristram's mum: it is a curse to be a mother (or aunt).
ReplyDeleteTake him in hand! Before it's too late!
For whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap
- Galatians 6:7 (King James Version)
you never get anywhere if you don't keep moving,
ReplyDeletedon't curse your feet tristram,
it's a mad, mad, mad, mad world.
all the beast,
dustyrose.
more! more! more!
ReplyDelete