Waking up this morning was a traumatic moment of torture I’ll never forget, the fucking alarm drilling mercilessly into my fuzzy head like a sadistic dentist high on crack.
I cursed the day Narcisa was spawned from that nasty old hell hole an angry inch from her cunt bitch mother’s putrid stinking bung-hole. I moaned in despair as I rolled over and covered my head with the pillow. It was no use. I crawled across the bed like a wounded
bleeding old baboon and lowered myself down the loft bed ladder, hating every detail of existence with a screaming bloody vengence.
But Narcisa was awake. And, still burdened with all of her usual
hyperactive, attention-deficit impatience – which she still doesn’t
understand is a characteristic trait of the disease of addiction, a
corroding soul-sickness of the infantile ego mind of every untreated
drug addict – absolutely insisted I must also be awake at 9 am
sharp.
Anxiety. Impatience, hurry up Cigano, go go go! God forbid I should
get a full night’s sleep after catering to her every childish consumer dream, whim and demand all day long, every day of my goddamned life. And all that raging NEED and infantile impatience snapping furiously at the heels of a full, action-packed month of non-stop mind
fuck drama and systematic daily sleep deprivation. God forbid I should be allowed to sleep a full 6 hours wake up at noon like I’d begged her to let me do last night. God forbid. Narcisa knows I need to sleep between 6am and noon. And she’s always managed to expertly awaken me during those ungodly hours when I’m only good for one thing – sleep.
Narcisa has found a way to continue to torture me with sleep deprivation, even from afar, and without smoking crack. Remote mind control. Narcisa. Fuck.
Copyright Jonathan Shaw 2008. All Rights Reserved.
NOTIFICAÇÃO: Os eventos relatados neste site são contos de ficção registrados na Biblioteca Nacional com todos os direitos autorais revertidos ao autor Jonathan Shaw. Os personagens mencionados são inteiramente fictícios. Certos eventos, personagens, lugares e relatos, foram baseados em fatos reais, porém qualquer semelhança a qualquer pessoa viva ou morta se trata de pura coincidência. As várias fotografias apresentadas se encontram com o rosto distorcido para preservar o anonimato das modelos que representam personagens fictícios.