Monday 10 October 2011

The weekend part #4: Sunday morning, 1am

It's near two am and my life is slowly turning into Hell. I can't get home. It is getting impossible to stay here, I am so tired I could cry but of course people are only getting more drunk, more sweaty, more loud. And I can't leave. Nobody is leaving, not even people with little kids.
At this point I am bitterly angry with people who have left me stranded. A tiny heads up would have been fine, so I could pre-arrange stuff then and not now when everything is a melting blur.. My face hurts just trying to keep my eyes open. This is like a nightmare in which I am yet again the doormat, because am either too fucking poor or too fucking weak to demand things (though things are changing, slowly but surely, in a long line of last straws...) or because it is winter and I cannot simply walk away.

Actually fuck that. I'll just walk away.

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