sometimes, i go out and drink too much.
then, i check my cell phone to see whom i have called and texted, trying to piece the night back together in my cloudy little mind. this is all well and good until i realize…
i am a deleter.
i erase incriminating texts while i am in a bathroom stall at, let’s say, a bowling alley and realize that i should not text boys first and must get rid of the evidence that i am an idiot.
then, the next day while scrolling through the past eve's communications in a hungover haze, i live a blissful 3 minutes under the impression that he texted first, which makes me feel okay for engaging in the all night text fiesta.
it even begins to soften the fact that he’s 7 years younger.
then, i have a cloudy memory of the first text,
which was my text,
and realize,
much like the WASPS
i am trying to rewrite history.
well.
at least i am not spreading syphilis.
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diggin for brass on shady lane
3 comments:
why does our brain regenerate? some things were meant to stay disconnected
i am, however, experiencing some success at willfully getting rid of FB
FB... I wish that I could not remeber FB as well. The night playing pool is carved into my cerebral cortex.
what night playing pool? see, working already
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