Teetering on the edge of the abyss, drawn to the prospect of falling by an almost irresistible force, just hanging on to solid ground by the last vestiges of rationality. Find the one, have sex, pay the money, then swallow the pills. Game over. What an appetising prospect that seems, compared to the rest of my life lived like this. This costume of deceit has become an all-encompassing, suffocating blanket. I need to throw it off while I've still got the strength to do so, before I drown in a sea of self-loathing and frustration. An hour of my life when I can truly be me, then the fall of the curtain. Those left behind won't understand, might hate me for what I'll have done, but if they'd had to live my life, they might at least have some sympathy. Or maybe not. There's sympathy for the devil, but none for the likes of me.
Hello, sweet boy. Are you the one?
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Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
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