Untitled, i dismantled the flatpack ikea couch and sat on...

i dismantled the flatpack ikea couch and sat on the floor, drinking coca cola and listening to the feelies, cocodamol high like 2005, thought about my crying in ireland and edinburgh and felt like a phony, the clubs and bars where we sparred and you won. i spend most of my days trying to get to the bottom of some mystery i think everyone else has already explained, everyone and everything in a massive soup and no-one bothered about anything. i can’t write properly because i’m an idiot, but i like the idea of it all. music cuts and jags as the broadband fades.