delta

Have you ever woken up one morning and felt like everything around you is just not the same - wishing that the last thought/last conversation/last moment you had before bedtime was nothing more than a horrible dream. But then you notice the coffee cups, the cribs of paper, the untouched panini - the very evidence that what happened actually did happen. You don't recognise the furniture around you, you don't recognise the clothes you went to bed in, and the air around you just tastes different - the taste in your mouth is different. You turn to the picture frame on the bedstand, and even the faces in that picture look foreign to you. And no, I am not talking about the morning after a one-night stand.


It is when you wake up in your own room one morning, wishing there was a way you could crawl out of your own skin. With the same questions playing on your mind: what the hell am i doing? where the hell am i? and where do i go from here? Playing, on repeat.

Another pathetic candle on the cake, and look at what its done to me.

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