/ INCEPTION/

"i hope to arrive to my death, late, in love, and a little drunk" Atticus

Siting at the bar.

Intoxicated, that's how i can remember to like it.

Everything slow, everything hazy.

It used to be so fast. Downfall.

My life before my eyes. I had to slow it down, too fast.

Spinning me out of proportions.

Out of Balance.

Still drifting off the weighing scale. But atleast in a slow rythm.

Savoring every moment. My very own demise.

My own destruction.

But regardless, i still remember his face.

He intoxicates me more than anything, the liquor not being potent enough.

Or the drugs not being effective.

I don't know.

Everything started with him, but I'll end it for both of us.

I've accepted the reality.

My longing bores me.

Was there an option?

Yes, Maybe death.

So I'll take my time.

Blocking the slow jazz from the hellish bar, i stare off into the night.

I can't sleep, can't stay awake without my portion.

My fix.

I have to go to him.