Rain On.
No wine tonight, we thought it best after the last two nights overindulgences. The cannabis will run out shorty to so there's some anxiety about disassociation getting get of control when it does. Mostly pretty numb between lots of body memories. The relief and joy at having access to good memories washing away the coldness of accepting the horrific stuff. For now.
No one seems very sure who should be doing what. The front of house staff have left there desks leaving a new and unsure part time temp and a well meaning work experience boy to run the show. They are baring up pretty well so far but reinforcements are going to have to come from somewhere.
I hate the feeling that I'm rising out of the body, away from the I. There's too many cult parts that aren't articulate that interpret that feeling as very, very bad news.
Beth wants to say hello. She's not sure about pictures but is beginning to see the point of them. She's a bit posh and well presented. Smells nice.
The narrator is a shadowy fuker or so s/he would like to think and has had various forms over many years.
Goes by Ed. - The Editor.
