For the past few I wake up at an indecent hour, fish for one of my cellies, and compose an imprudent sms. I text fast despite the mental inertness. There are also times that I lethargically scroll through my phonebook strangely excited to call anyone.

I have never been able to send an sms or make a successful call, but I know I have to get used to sleeping without my mobile phones by my side starting tonight.

This morning I discovered it wasn’t a bad dream when I drafted this message:

“I want to do it again.”

I will bet my subconsciously promiscuous ass that I almost sleeptexted that to him.

This is bad. Really bad.

Had it been sent, it would have been good. Really good for him.

—–

listening to: the psychotic inner voice laughing