Drunk in London

Later, later, later. 12:05 AM in London and 3:05 in Russia and 7:05 in New York and I want to close my eyes in death once more, lost here in the empty smoked carpet of the hotel bar, slightly spinning and sola (perdua) abandonata.

And I said goodbye and have never felt more empty and only want to cry cry cry cry cry cry cry and this indescribable pit of fear, regret and despair makes my stomach well up with nausea.

And I want to go out. I long to GO OUT.