Fairy Story

I'm going very mad very slowly. I went out last night, came back buzzed and read gruesome fairy stories until two in the morning. Then I had some nightmares. I rose at 10 and wrote solidly for four hours listening to the same five songs on loop. The songs are about sadness and drugs and relationships, riffs on the same theme.

Last night there was phone number written in a toilet cubicle that promised everyone who called it some obscene things. I wonder about the person who wrote that. I want to find him and hug him and feed him chocolate ice cream. And then he can punch me in the face for being a patronising bastard. His handwriting looked sad. I hope he's not sad. I can't help wanting to know.

Perhaps that would be a fairy story worth writing.