It is 9:45 a.m. when my eyelids finally manage to open by tearing apart the layer of sand and glue. I’ve woken up three hours late. The task of stepping out of bed adds another hour to that delay. New medication is sliding down my bloodstream like chubby kids with their swimming shorts pulled halfway down their bum down a waterslide. Fast, while clogging up every inch of it.
Tripofmine
Tripofmine
Tripofmine
It is 9:45 a.m. when my eyelids finally manage to open by tearing apart the layer of sand and glue. I’ve woken up three hours late. The task of stepping out of bed adds another hour to that delay. New medication is sliding down my bloodstream like chubby kids with their swimming shorts pulled halfway down their bum down a waterslide. Fast, while clogging up every inch of it.