Uncensored Diary of Trixy Lunette

But what I really mean to say is- how can something be this fantastic? As my eyes start to open and I become sober again and I become me again. Everything is far more sincere now. We walk back inside the pub to sit down in new chairs this time and there are some strange pictures on the wall.

“Excuse me sir but, are the people in those pictures the same?”

We ask a confused bar tender who clearly doesn’t know or really care, given that matter. I knew that they weren’t the same because one had a way bigger nose than the other but the boys were certain that it was an optical illusion. You see what you want to see after all.

This is really where I can relay up to because the rest of the night is a huge blur. One huge blur…

And then.

***

Bliss.

Hours of sleep.

Head on a pillow, white and fluffy.

Hours of rest.

Bags and bags of sweets…

Hours and hours in my bed.

Dreams compartmentalising into knots tied in my subconscious.

No dead ends.

Just bliss.

And then, slowly coming to, opening my eyes to the white softness of the room, yellow bleary sunlight pouring through. It’s a beautiful day. I can see tree’s outside my window and fluffy white clouds that welcome me into consciousness. Only it isn’t just this day right now: it’s every day that it’s ever been or will be. There isn’t a “one day” today. This isn’t a “Saturday.” These are my dreams and these are my goals- that was my ex-boyfriend and that was my old school friend. I am everyday I’ve ever lived and will live.