The blanket you wake up under after a night of hard shitty drinking in which you have partial blackout memory, except for the few fragments of things you said and did that you really DON'T want to know about, but can't quite piece together either. The embarrassment and self-hatred turn the stomach in symbiosis with the general effects of a cracker of a hangover. You retreat under the asshole blanket, head and all, trying to forget that you even exist, wishing you didn't, and hiding from the entire world for the next day or so. Yes, you are an asshole, and you know it.
No comments:
Post a Comment