meat and bone

For some reason I have a deep, unsettling pain in my brain. Mr T is trying to sell convection microwaves on the tele and I am trying to watch American Psycho on my laptop to soothe my nerves. It's Rupert's birthday, since the clock has struck twelve, and he has just gone to bed to cherry-bakewell Hollie Higgins. Everybody else is in bed and I feel compelled. I put on a blue jacket with a grey zip-up hoodie underneath it and start rambling around the streets of Penryn. It's raining outside and I find myself taking a piss into a stream standing on top of a bridge, there are trees all around me enveloping the moonlight because I am in a wood. I have my hood up and actually think that I can hear voices coming from all around me. So I scarper. I get lost walking around a housing estate and find myself at a brand-new set of apartments calling itself simply: 'Newport'. I don't brake into the apartments but instead find an abandoned farm with a dilapidated barnyard. I look at this for a while. Then a Car comes past so I pretend to be on the phone to somebody, because I feel a bit weird; stood here peering over a gate that has "STRICTLY NO ENTRY" emblazoned on it in multiple places and in a variety of different fonts.

I end up sat by the harbour, ignoring cars that drive past; pretending that this is a tranquil scene. The sky is cloudless and the moon and stars are out. Ruby red lights splinter across the surface of the river, (literal) electric blue rays reflect over the horizon, golden streams of energy emanate from artificial lighting, green beams of light dart though the air towards me like laser beams. All I can relate to this; a photograph.

I walk up the hill, although it is raining, I get sweaty and take off my top. When I get home I make a glass of water in a Tribute pint glass and sit half-naked in the fetal position listening to Taylor Swift - Love Story on repeat.