Sunday, October 28, 2018

Mama's Little Pills Spilled All Over The Floor


It was about to dawn.

We were inside of a dark small apartment, standing in front of a window.
We were in silence, watching the city.

Our shadows reflected in the glass of the window in a dismal way.

Our reflection reminded me of the most popular scene of Fight Club, except that we would not see how a bomb would make an enormous building fall to pieces

The sky looked like a giant mouth about to yawn. 
The clouds looked like an army of violent waves about to invade a warm ocean. 

The walls in the apartment were all painted in red and they reminded me of the excess of wine in my body. 


She just wore underwear and a T-shirt. 

She stared at me.
Her eyes were sad and tired.
She looked younger than I thought she was. 

Her long black hair shone in the form of an ambiguous cascade.
Somehow, it made me to experience a group of brief vertiginous images.
These images appeared in intervals in my fuzzy brain.
Soon they adopted the form of a headache.

Her long black hair also reminded me of her shadowy naked body. 
For a moment, I almost smelled the secret perfume of her skin. 
It gave me the chills. 

I was so angst and confused. 
I felt so dumb. 

What we had done?

http://www.ifccenter.com/films/fight-club/
She came close to me and made me hug her from behind.
As we still watched the city, I felt her skinny body.
It was like an open vibrating sore. 

Her body was so tiny and soft that it reminded me of a porcelain doll. 
I felt pity of her. 

I barely could stand beside her. 
I was dizzy and about to fall asleep. 
Also, I wanted to throw up.  
She was so stoned, too.

I looked down and saw a lot of pills on the floor. 
Somehow, I knew those pills were antidepressants.
She was on treatment 'cause she had tried to commit suicide in the last year. That's why we had started to get closer.  
We had started by watching movies each Friday. 
I just wanted to be supportive. 
One thing had led to another. 

Nonetheless, the pills spilled all over the floor made me think that maybe she was addicted to meth, too.
It also gave me the chills. 

What if I had just tried meth for the first time?

I was so drunk, tired and sleepy. 

The apartment was so quiet and warm, but my mind was a fierce storm.
I felt abussive and I wanted to kill myself, but I had the feeling that she was too vulnerable and that it was not an appropriate moment.
I was terribly ill and tied to her suffering. 

I just woke up. Still feel so guilty. 

At times, dreams are so revealing and scary. 



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