‘Everything’s Gone and Got a Little Bit Morrissey and Your Help would be Helpful Right Now’
“Sure I’m still tired a week later. But that extreme fatigue, those sandpaper eyes, that disconnect of that new top down view of me, for now, now at least that’s abated. Sleep is wonder, a cure. When it’s disrupted there’s need for attention…”
“I better call the GP or do something. But I don’t, I write songs at 3am, letters to a God I don’t usually believe in all dressed up as spurned and burned love letters…”
“It’s only been month. And I know everything is always a month. I am beat. She is beat. And navigating this while I navigate me while I navigate her while she navigates him, thinking of myself seems an N’th degree selfish..”
“Yesterday I hit the hay hard. I was tired in a way that was everything…”
It looks simple on paper I know. Maths so easy it’s hard to get wrong. But uphill’s so much tougher than down when it’s steep and I’m more scared of slipping than heights.
Maybe there’s a good time and place to fuck up, I was lucky to fuck up there and then. But there’s no luck in finding a good time to talk. Lesson learnt: Always open up sooner.
“That bucket holding the Christmas behind me, it’s a well of loved memories to draw from. And as I sit in the living room he sat in, with glasses on just like he wore, with his slippers that I’ve now named as mine… I’m a placeholder, same as his new living state…”