Last Night – or it’s cold

It’s cold in here. Two in the night with five more to go before I want to get out. Or maybe six. Yeah, it’s fucking cold up here and I just can’t fall asleep. Even as I lay here writing wearing a sweater and socks with my leather jacket on top of my blanket, I can only hope that it will be enough. But I doubt it. 

Anxiety with nothing to calm me down, or for the same matter to keep me really going. Limbo is the shit. Brain dead ideas to think about. 

I feel somewhat hungry and besides this, I have the grave urge to build a large format camera from scratch. Something has happened here. Overload the fuckers and see the pig blow up. Like tomatoes in a pan and a sexual convenience store. I’m addicted to nonsensical bullshit and know this damned well. It’s worse than what alcohol or whatever drugs may lead to. Instead of trying to work for a healthy dependency, it just immobilizes. Damn, should I light up a smoke? 

Laying on my bed, flat on my back and staring at the ceiling while the gray smoke rises up in the air. The camera zooms in on me as I lay bare-chested with the cigarette in my hand, next to my lover. As the soundtrack begins to play, I exhale. The pockets of my jacket are full, weighing it down. Even after I removed the empty scotch bottle from one side. I’m all trough. Found some change in my wallet. 

Hardly enough for four beers tomorrow, or a bottle of wine that I won’t notice before it’s gone. Already dreading tomorrow night. 

Maybe I shouldn’t even stay. I can always come by in the morning to pick up the rest of my stuff. It would be nice to have someone laying next to me right now, preferably someone who isn’t a blanket that still does not shield me from the elements. Possibly in her bed and not here. My bed would be the same as now, except that one person would be sleeping. Who I could not disturb by agonizing over silly stuff like this. But in the end, it wouldn’t matter. Because tomatoe. Tomato. Knock yourself out on the diversity of all this. Tomorrow, actually today, 

I will get up. Try to find enough cleanish clothes to wear under my work suit. Take a hot shower and stand outside for seven or eight hours. Oh well, it pays a part of the bills at least, and the job is fun. It might even feed me at one point this month. But change has come, just as well as the water next to my bed has gone. Let’s try to go out once again before I wake up today.