eventually * HIDDLESTON

02 - 12:12

TOM HIDDLESTON
march 24th 2019
12:12 AM

tom did. after a successful career i'd never expect that the end of my life would be in less than twenty-four hours and the idea that i had no control over it frightened me to the core.

it was simple, i'd received the call at eight, nearly nine minutes past twelve. shock wasn't the word i was looking for, stunned, appalled, heavy-hearted; the list could go on for eternity. lying with my arms and legs parted, on my back, my phone was dropped heavily next to my head. my brain couldn't fathom the subject of my life.

did i want to let anyone know? yes. would i? no, i simply couldn't dampen their day with my death. maybe i'd write a heartfelt letter to those who are dear to me. although that would be a utter waste of time- there are far too many people whom i hold close to me.

maybe a day in my own company would be pleasant- there was be no dire need to please those around me. only myself.

that was a lie- the art of conversation with someone who knows nothing of my name, career or worth; was the epitome of a metaphorical hard-on.

personally, i thought my life came to more than lying in bed thinking of things that metaphorically turn my brain on, but i guess we are here.

i plead guilty- a few moments after the false apology of the phone operator, i stayed on the line- praying for an 'april fools' or a prank call from a colleague. but that never happened.

at least i can say i've accomplished things and made a tom sized dent in the earth below us. at least i've made myself proud. that pesky compartment of my brain that is trying to convince me that my life wasn't actually appreciated or something people could admire was nagging away at me as the moonlight streamed through the gap in my curtains and on the the horrid duvet cover that i received from set of thor.

there could be a chance i dawdle through the day with no issues, have a beer or two watch any old television show then fade peacefully in my sleep- but the chance of an over-the-top death for someone who calls them selves an actor; would be irony at its finest.