It's 11:15am. I'm pretty sure the ex ex ex that keeps calling me is a wasted version of binge-drunk hungry. He keeps leaving voice messages how he's stuck in town this morning needing a ride.
I don't want to know this information.
11:23. I don't know who gave him my number. Don't care. So I don't answer and block his call. I wanted to go to brunch and be alone to mull over the current affairs of things.
The current affairs of things include an awful situation I'm not involved in but it keeps coming up anyways. Instead of talking to anyone about it, I decide to write about it while sipping an iced tea listening to a couple discuss Donald Trump's hair.
I don't want to know this information.
Last week: A drive down the wrong street reveals a friend is cheating on his girlfriend.
I don't want to know this information.
This week: His girlfriend keeps accusing me.
It's not me.
I know who it is.
I feel awful.
I don't want to know this information.
She keeps messaging me that I'm stealing him.
Telling me my life is perfect.
It's not me, my life is not perfect.
In all honesty I'm trying to steal another friends camera to shoot this evening.
I don't want to know this information.
It's 11:33 and I can't believe the ex ex ex has resorted to emails. And the girlfriend is messaging me again.
I'm alone, drinking iced tea, writing and I don't want to know this information.
~m.
No comments:
Post a Comment