The getaway

I can dream of the future but have nightmares of the past.

The beauty of a new day is like rebirth, a chance to once again make things right. I get to pretend I am not being judged, my past actions don't impinge on my current situation. We'll all be close again.

But life got dull again, people began to bore and I resumed drinking. Drink. It's what made me so terrified of looking at my own image, knowing what has been and what may be. Not for self-esteem, or anger or good times, just the sheer monotony of it all. To fuck with my brain and give it some sense of ecstasy and delight. Now my brain enjoys challenges and being fucked and I become transformed.

Falling into a state of neglect