https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62nelnMXW3M
I was sitting on the toilet. Not thinking. I’d closed the door so I could be in the dark for a bit. The heater was blowing. I didn’t feel the blood dripping from my nose. When I turned on the light I could see the drops splattered on the tile. It’d run into my moustache. Warm and thick. I moved my tongue up to lick the blood as I looked into the mirror. Inside it.

Shame was something I heard about only a couple of times. Another new thing to know, alright. It made me think of Kelly and our first night out to see Drive. It made me think of the times I’d wanted to sit and watch a movie at home with Brianna. All of it, just a few months ago. A few seasons.

I turned on my phone last night while I toked on the balcony, standing among a nice layer of rotting leaves. One text message from my boss asking if I’d sent the videos and screenshots to the producer. One from my mother informing me that my grandfather had died. Ninety-some years old. My father had flown down for the funeral. I didn’t think much of his death. I worried more about my grandmother and father. The near fifteen siblings of his. This would hit them hard. Ninety-some years old. Dead. I ignored the voice messages and turned it off.

I watched the Shame trailer this morning. The way he glanced at thighs and asses. The way he looked at women. It was like, yes. Not what I’m sure the ending will be about, but before that. Just wanting to fuck someone. Wanting someone to be inside of. Pleasurable escape.

Catch a breath.