Couch Potato No

I feel like I've been on a bit of a bender. Not that of drugs and beautiful woman (which sounds almost romantic but always almost ends very badly! Let me think, something like badly.), so no I have chosen a more humble approach and slightly safer, but that is definitely debatable.

I have held a 3-day DVD marathon, with the company of take out and stay in. I have reached the point that when I get up off the couch, its dented, ashtrays filled, stomach bloated, eyes squared. Yes these three days have been fun.

I should be finding a place to live. I cant, I’m stuck, and I search the same places over and over, like the shutter in my brain has been jammed by my escape into super heroes, Chinese villains, mystic robbers and eccentric housewives.

I lay here, stuck in a self-destructive play button, paused. Almost delirious.
My mom has naturally gone out with the girls, cant help but think “should roles be reversed?” I could sit here wrapped up in a blanket, smoking a fag blended with almond ice cream all night, or I could get up and go. Take the evening, see where it goes, locked lips with a fantasy woman, arm wrestling with an old friend, who knows what would happen if I got up and left.

I hear this little voice, “one more night, just one more night”, when that voice speaks it scares me. It sounds a little like any life threatening bad habit “this is the last time!” Wake up from your guilty conscience; assess the situation for what it is, because you know exactly what it is. No pretence here, IT’S CALLED WALLOWING.


Will I wallow for the rest of the week, or will I just get up and go?