Friday 25 June 2010

The Streets of Sobriety.




The postman is on his way , I can see him out of my window , he doesn't get a Christmas tip off me , he brings me bills and horrid letters so he can fuck off .

Some chap rang my buzzer at 7.35am this morning and was shouting "Rob wake up " kept ringing my buzzer for 10 minutes , I got up to take a piss and felt the full effects of last nights cider-fest , take some painkillers , consider taking a bath then hop back into bed , my mind is racing , I want to blog then feeling drowsy sleep until 10.06am . A friend of mine , Sally , is in a bad way , her Grandad is dying and she's lashing out at anyone that can be bothered to listen , I can be bothered and received some outrageously rude text messages last night , I didn't bite and was very polite in my replies which is unusual for me , I love a good text row but not when someone is hurting as badly as she is , I know all about loss , watched my Dad dying from a brain tumour , it took 4 years to kill him , ripped my fucking heart out , preyed to God and the devil to take me instead of him , there was no justice in it , he didn't deserve to die in such an awful and undignified way . I don't visit his grave , can't , its still to raw , I feel guilty for this but don't want to cry anymore .

Some people have cornflakes or eggs and bacon for breakfast , I'm having cups of tea , cider and cigarettes , horses for courses . Talking of horses I must draw a picture of one , Im a bit of a pencil sketcher , usually I will draw women , breasts are a particular favourite .

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