Possible Flat? – Part II – Who Your Friends Are?


I just wrote “Possible Flat?” I guess the first installment of how many? I just wrote it how long ago? An hour or so?

I’m walking around with Wonder Cane’s brother.  I don’t know why.  Tired? No.  I don’t need a cane when I’m tired! I just don’t feel my legs are working right.  All of this isn’t working right–in my head.

My  legs.  My legs.  They feel kind of numb.  Let me check.  Hang on a sec’…  I don’t know.  Kind of weird because I haven’t seized.

I’m buggered.  Seriously.  I’m sitting here listening to Anonymous 4 that doesn’t make me buggered.  THAT is supposed to UN-bugger me.  If you don’t know them, these women are beyond bliss.  Yes, it is not the time to play music at “such an hour” but I don’t give a fuck.

I also don’t give a fuck even more as I’m sitting here smoking in my flat.  Which I never do.  Well, maybe on a couple of occasions like this.

When I’m buggered.  Seriously.  And lonely.

And counting…counting…who your friends are.  Who is there for you.

Well, I grabbed J. tonight.  To help me measure things and size up the place.  He’s a right, royal, pain in the arse but I know I can always rely on him.

Measure, size up, rely.  These words have no meaning when it comes to the people who care.  Those that care for you and the ones that you care for in return.

So then does where that leave you in the end?

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