Socks of loneliness

I am beginning to suspect that I have a brain fever. A fever that is reaching breaking point. I am either going to explode spectacularly in a tv special with lights, music and dancing boys on roller skates or the fever is going to break and I will step forwards calmly with a glow of new health. I am wearing fuzzy bedsocks, they remind me of Elliott, the songs in a film I watched last night reminded me of Elliot. The perfume I wore yesterday reminded me of Elliott, the organic food shop up the road reminds me of Elliot. The coffee I am drinking, the cigarette I am smoking, the shirt hanging in my wardrobe, the angle of the cat in the window sill, the food I am going to cook for dinner, the car parked across the street, the pedestal fan in the corner of my bedroom, the soap in my shower, the water on the bathroom floor, the pen on my desk. Everything everything reminds me of Elliot and I don't know why. I'm going with the brain fever theory for now cause at the end of the day he's just a friend, just a friend in rehab and he's nothing I can hang my hat on.

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