The following story is composed of notes written on my phone while drunk, discovered while hung over. I kept waking up and finding these little snippets in my phone. At first, it was cool, but then it was as if they were trying to convince me of what I should feel. It was weird, they raised a very serious question. Did I have a reasonable grip on my own narrative? The notes made my thoughts feel like they were wearing a tinfoil hat and that felt like...
Related Subjects
Poetry