Thursday, 29 December 2011

036; This is not your year.

Scattered shadows on a wall, you watch the long light fall
Some impressions stay and some will fade away
Tattered shoes outside your door, clothes all on the floor
Your life feels like the morning after all year long

Fucking hell. Haven't been sleeping well (I've gotten maybe eight odd hours in the past sixty), got a terrible headache (and it never goes away), and I've lost control of my body; can't stop shaking, can't hold food down, and I've had (more than?) four accidents today (which is more than average). The days are blurring together and I feel like hell.

(I guess this is payback for all those pink little pills.)

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