I wake up to two of the largest bears imaginable having a full on fight in my skull. The term ‘headache’ does not do justice to the pain I am experiencing. Using my fingers to find my mouth I attempt to prise it open-my nail scratches my gum and the sound that squeaks out astonishes even me.
Keeping my head as still as possible I reach out for my stash tin-my fingers are all thumbs, or possibly big toes, and I realise that if I am going to get the day started I am going to have to move. You can’t scratch an itch without moving. Heaving myself up onto my elbows I see my guitar case propped against the bedside table. Weird-I thought that I’d left that on the bus, but seeing as it is here I may as well start the day on a high.
I feel inside the case, my fingers in search of the little plastic baggy, finding instead a folded piece of paper…
YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING ARSEHOLE
AFTER EVERYTHING WE TALKED ABOUT AND ALL YOUR LAME PROMISES THAT AREN’T WORTH SHIT!
YOU HAVE THE FUCKING FRONT TO JEOPARDISE EVERYTHING WE’VE ALL BUSTED OUR BALLS FOR
You’re like a BROTHER to me and you know that I want you to get the help that you need and being on the road is blatantly not what you need right now. And if I’m being honest, it’s not what I want right now either. I can’t keep cleaning up your messes and you can’t keep shitting all over my dreams…they used to be OUR dreams.
Dump your fix and fix up!
See you later.
…my head swims as the bottom falls out of my world and I recognise that this time I have missed the bus in more ways than one.