Nightcap for the Soul

The night had ended. There was not much more to do other than catch a cab and try to hold my shit together until I got home. And so I did.

I arrived to the building door and the earth was shaking (or rather, I was trying to stand still and failing miserably). The key kept missing the hole and I was losing my patience and also freezing my ass off. At last, I was able to open the door, almost falling to the floor as I had used excessive force to get in. (Fucking door, man! It’s always the same shit!)

I got to the beginning of the steps and thought “May the Lord help me!”. Usually, I just have a laugh at myself as I zigzag up the stairwell.

The apartment door was in front of me and the folly of climbing the stairs had ended. The idea of Hell had returned to my mind. And, once more, I missed the key hole a billion fucking times before actually opening the door.

The bedroom was empty and it was not just a simple physical void, it was fucking empty. Miserably empty. And yet, I still got in.

In a drunken rage, I threw my clothes across the room, hoping they would land on the chair where they usually are kept. Some of them did, others didn’t. (I didn’t give a shit.)

I jumped in the bed and as soon as I laid my head on the pillow, my surroundings were shaking. I felt the room as you feel the ocean waves in the Summer but these waves only exist in your brain, your perception. I couldn’t fall asleep.

I thought of you, as I do every night. And this time, my mind didn’t just shut it off. Images of you kept popping up like I had just accessed a sketchy website. Maybe I had. Maybe you were just a fucking sketchy web page I couldn’t resist to open.

Hours passed and I hadn’t fallen asleep. (What the fuck, brain?) Sleep can be a tricky bastard, but it isn’t trickier than your own mind.

I woke in the early am. My head was throbbing, I was sick to my stomach, I was actually shaking (the hangover shakes, those fuckers). And I thought of you again. It’s just not something you can turn off…

I need something else. A remedy. That beer-drinking business just isn’t helping me anymore.

Where can I get me something to shut you off my brain?

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