be vewwy vewwy quiet...

I’ve had my mojito. I’ve closed my circle.
Not.
I still hope you’re dead. Wish you dead with all of my soul.

“I’m in the middle of developing a complex of abandonment.” An affirmation about as false as most of my affirmations. Truth is, I’m past that stage. Left behind is what I feel like most. Left behind by the circus, the little girl took up drinking.

Meet cuba libre. Always truthful? For reasons unknown, it left me.
Let it be finlandia. Still hanging on to that one. I’ll huggle it, and kiss it, and call it bobby.

Yes, of course I’m over bobby. There was nothing to get over, but the wound of being left behind once again. Being ignored, not called the next day or any other day again. ‘I miss you already’, big fat hippie liar! Hope you fell off the scaffolding. Crushed your bones – free falling, parachute failure, sabotage, a friendly push off the cliff before the rope was tightened, anything would do, really. I miss you already.

Poor ozzie, it’s not even like I hate him. I just wish he were dead, so that I wouldn’t be left behind. Is that too much to ask of him?

It’s 11 pm and I’m drinking. Again. Blabbering in writing, surprisingly coherent. Or at least that’s how it feels right now. Tomorrow will be a better judge of this, I guess.