phone locked away in my dressing room.
i couldn't masturbate.
no alcohol.
what was there to do besides from watching the shit- show before me.
act after act. boring, boring.
sheet after sheet of vulgar doodles on what simon says is an "important information sheet".
red, red, red. it was all i saw now.
the act finally finished. in their eyes, a hopeful glimmer. hopeful for their future, for their ambitions to become more than just dreams.
dreams. what a vile things.
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i apologise for my hectic publishing, unpublishing. i unpublished the most recent story i was writing. i want to work on something a bit more advanced, darker, well-thought out. thanks for putting up with my stupidity. x
