(no subject)

[iniquiticity]

Anonymous asked
18 // ironflint // ;(
I don’t know how to make things right. So I’ll just keep pretending that nothing’s wrong. (you know that I’m no good)



There were times, as brief as they were, when Alex was very much faced with the thought that he was not doing well. Usually this happened in the wee hours of the morning, the street all streetlight halos with only the occasional car. Alex was shit at sleeping without an orgasm or Ambien, and at present he was out of both. He looked at the street. He thought about Washington, and some old bruises on his back which were aching, and tomorrow’s presentation regarding overseas inestments, and and and and

He wondered where his dad was.

He wondered where Eliza was.

Washington would have never permitted himself to be insomniac. Washington would lay in bed with his eyes closed all night, even wide awake.

he thought about a grindr hookup from yesterday. The guy had just gone through a breakup. I thought we were going to get married.… Alex had gone to the bathroom and slipped out the back entrance. He didn’t need some dude crying on him about a lost girl.

Thought about the street, and the world, and his favorite park bench, and his old history teacher, and the shitty foster parents, and fucking Charles Lee, miserable shitstain extraordinaire, and the sun, and the winter, and the hurricane, and his mom, and and and and.

He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to block out his thoughts. Thought about sleeping and being caned last week and his new tattoo and the new porn from yesterday he saw and Washington staring down at him and Washington touching him and Washington pressing so close and Washington bending to his will and and and

He didn’t have ambien, but whiskey would do. He had lots of whiskey. He brought the bottle back to bed.