Muffin trays and moisturiser

If you really want to hear about it, I can tell you. But it won't be one of those stories where you start with the childhood stuff and work up. We all had a childhood, lousy or spoilt it makes no difference now. No difference to me walking in my front door after a day at work and with another day at work ahead of me. I sat on my bed for about 10 minutes, thinking about this and that. I could go ahead and tell you what I thought about but you'd probably think I'm crazy, hell, I think I'm crazy. I picked up an empty glass that was by my foot from the night before. I had nothing else to do so I picked it up and poured some Scotch into it. The glass was the kind you find at a grandma's house. It had an ugly pattern on it in frosted glass, old-style, like it had been around forever. I felt sorry for old people when I thought about them and drinking from this glass made me feel goddamn depressed. I took another sip of Scotch and put it down. I stood up as if I had somewhere to go and then realised I didn't so I just lied on the floor, I figured the bed had been sat on enough. I could see underneath my wardrobe, a moisturiser bottle had fallen there. The sight of this bottle made me smile, although I wasn't sure why. At the sight of it my mind had flashes of happy images. The kind you see people having in the movies. That's what my mind was thinking before, if you really have to know, except the flashes weren't all happy ones. In the movies people usually have these flashes when they are dying or messed up in some way. You probably think I am messed up, I certainly think about dying. At unexpected times, I'll think about going out a window or in front of a bus or maybe with pills. If moisturiser make my mind flash with smiley images who knows what makes for dying flashes. And I don't always die, in my thoughts, sometimes I just go to hospital or bleed a lot. My head is still flashing, smiles and bleeding. I stand up like I am old, like it's a real effort as if there is someone around to give me sympathy. Maybe that's why I want to go to hospital, but what would I do with flowers and balloons anyway? I poured another Scotch and sat back on the bed. The flashes go to these muffin trays that I bought, they seem really important to me right now. Thinking about them I feel smiley and depressed at the same time, like I said goddamn crazy. I thought about whether I was going crazy for a moment, I hoped I was because then I'd go to hospital. I reminded myself that hospital are only full of people being polite and quiet and the smell of disinfectant. I poured another Scotch and thought about calling my friend William, we could have a good talk about books or work. I changed my mind, it's late and he's probably tired or doing something. I lied back on the bed, I felt cold but didn't pull on the quilt, I don't know why not, like I didn't deserve it. My mind continued flashing, mostly memories from my life but also messed up things like muffin trays.