Are You Laughing Now?

I’m going to take a wild guess that I wrote this a very long time ago. For one, I don’t have cable anymore.

Aside from that bit of inside information, none of the events have recently taken place or emulate my current frame of mind. I am still stuck between a rock and a hard place.

And I still need to wake the fuck up.

I pondered thoughts of life, fantasy, and reality.

My reality consists of degrees of maddened heat and constant cold. I loath socializing and staying inside and at the same time want to breathe fresher air and to talk to someone. I know I will move out of this prison; my warden thinks they are of privilege because of exclusivity. It’s sicking to know for a fact this is how they feel. How they truly feel.

I sit, sipping on four ice cubes-Gin-Vodka-lime-cranberry juice-club soda on May the 5th. I am filled with glee that it isn’t tequila. That served in a tall glass and nursed during pre-recorded shows such as American Dad, Adventure Time, Hannibal, to name a few. I waste time on my tablet. I am looking at pictures that seem to be important. Like Bradley Cooper heavyset with a beard and reading other people’s likes and dislikes of this image. I digress into neutrality.

In between not caring and being a functioning drunk and ignoring them. I’d still hit it. Only if he treated me right and that I didn’t act like a damn fool while doing so. My drink is finished and sufficiently watered down. At 1 in the morning, I end with a Gin and lime chaser while watching The Shining. Whoever is in charge of the movie schedule at Cinemax needs to be slipped a 50 dollar gift card to Buffalo Wild Wings or someplace as equally extravagant in the art of good-tasting poultry.

One month it’s non-stop Se7en, another it’s The Ninth Gate. Currently: The Shining. It has been playing for a good month already. Huzzah. Fifteen minutes after 1 am, I wish I could wake up on the floor of my home, lying in my inflatable bed with my Razor phone still in my hand in the middle of breaking up with my first long-time boyfriend. To tell him, “No, let’s do this in person. I don’t want to leave you without seeing you, and I need to look you in the eye and let you go.” Instead, I said, “You can kill yourself now because you’re dead in my mind,” and as I hung up, I heard him say, “How original.”

I hear my son call out for me only to blow his nose. He moans; as if his phlegm has him in agony. I need to wake up.