Three Tramadol makes me feel less heavy inside. Five creates a massive amount of stones in my stomach. Its all about balance. Control. I look around the kitchen. A bottle of what I assume is champagne is left half full on the table. I grabb it and empty it in 3 gulps. For each one the distance between emotions and me grows further.
Sitting by the table smoking my benson slowly coming to life I suddenly notice it. . A black tattered notebook. I look at it like it holds all secrets of my past. Things is though, I realize while flipping pages that its not mine. Its hers. Iris. My mother never told me about a journal. she never told me anything.
Her childlike letters and crappy spelling hits home, I hold the key to something awful here. With a mixture of hate and fascination I read.
Louis needs to get his act together. I wont help him off the floor again, put him in some black cab and tell it tp drive off to yet another rehab. I wont do it, its not fair to me. I have my own problems.
Cant help but think, did she really think of me as a problem to take care of? If so, why didn't she?
Outfit of the day
Dress: Jil Sander circa 1975.
Lipstick: chanel, colour of coagulated blood.
Death and disaster darlings.