agentblack

The hot weather gets to me - it takes me a while to adapt to it. I get woozy and dopey. I make bad judgements. Maybe I'll get fucked on gin and cough mixture cocktails and slump in front of the computer drooling and using my big spastic hands to send badly typed come ons to girls of obvious low character and morals on myspaz.

Maybe I'll wake up at five in the morning overcome with codeine comedown and remorse. Maybe I'll go for a run over the fields with the dogs - try and sweat the SIN and theWEAKNESS out of me.
Run through the middle of a mob of crows butchering an animal corpse - too messed up to tell what it was, just scraps of stringy grey pink meat and manky fur - not even the dogs are interested.

Push myself hard, disgust is natures rocket fuel, run through thistles, nettles, crash through the ditches, up to knees in muddy water turning brackish as the heat increases. Rural Essex is an agrarian desert of cornfields, the heat bounces back up from the ground and superheats the air.

I last up until the home stretch, end up in the grave yard of the nearby church, face down in the shade of the spire quitely dry heavig my guts up whilst the faithfull drone their dreary hymns in the furnace heat. The dogs cluster round me panting and sniffing at the bile and spit that tastes like broken batteries. They think I'm hilarious.

How was your sunday?

ALSO: Five Fave Friends? Fuck off.