Drinking Wine

I have drunk a bottle and a half of Merlot and my head is spinning.I want to sit down. And I have a headache brewing. I don’t feel hungry. I don’t feel tired. I don’t feel horny. I don’t feel like telly, music, computer games. Fucking story! Fucking parents! If they had it their way they’d be here with me 24 hrs a day, watching my every move.[every move you make, every breath you take, every claim you stake , I’ll be watching you](floor spins)Is the floor spinning. Fucking hell. I don’t want to be sick. Can I just sit here and sober up? Please god, please!

That’s it I’m going to sleep. Fuck my shoes fuck the duvet.

Oh.What’s that? Nothing. Good. This is nice. I feel OK but something is wrong. A cigarette. No, I have stopped smoking 4 years now. Oh, All is at peace. It won’t matter if I roll over and squashes my face into the pillow. It won’t. Cause no-one is here! Yay!

Pokemon! Pokemon. Wheres my book? There. Great. I’ll just open up to a random page and Awesome! Cool! awesome, awesome. Cute! Fuck of Dad. Get off my shoulder. That’s where parrot belongs! Not you Old Man! Cool! 700 of ’em.

Teddy! Food. Not for teddy. For Andrew. Microwave spaghetti bolognese with cheese sprinkles. yes, please! Beer? hmmm! what have I got? Strongbow, Kronenberg, Budweiser, Scotch, Coke, Vanilla Liqueur. Pernod. That’s empty. Pop? Orange or blackcurrant? No, Yoghurt? Still  got four. In fridge. Door. Nothing . Lemon curd. scratch chin. glance at overflowing bin. take it out. later.



Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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