Wake up warm and naked in a strange bed, heart pounding from last night's pills. Ask the age old question: 'Where the fuck are my clothes?'
Realise that most of last night has been forgotten. The remaining memories are fuzzy images of laughing, cool people, smoke and drink and pills. Oh, and toast. We had toast.
The day before, wake up cold on a sofa, in the same house. Next to me is a guy, fast asleep, kneeling on the floor, his face resting on the sofa. We wonder how he sleeps like that.
The preceding night, walk for miles, picking up, sorting out, rounding up the select few for the pre-party. Bottle of whisky, coke, and cans of Stella. Lots of weed. Great people to just chill with, and to cover with star and smiley-face stickers. A beautiful night.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment