i'm tired of being your satellite (your_satellite) wrote,
i'm tired of being your satellite

  • Mood:
  • Music:

sort of past the witching hour

I woke up thirsty and wrung out of dreams.
It's cloudy and starless and damp outside.
I wish I had someone to talk to, but waking people up for company is rude.
Plus a phone call late at night always makes you think someone has died
or been in a dreadful accident...
Although sometimes it turns out they're only drunk and want to share that state with you
Over the telephone
Like some weird beery osmosis.
There's your cue:
Raise that imaginary glass you've conjured up...
Down the hatch and goodnight all.
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