The next day.

Creative Forums Creative Writing
1

I awoke slowly, this seems to be synonymous with myself and drinking; sometimes I feel like my body feels sorry for me, after all it just sends the impulses, my consciousness is what has to feel the effects.

“Umm, Marshall, heya big fella… You uh, you feel like waking up? No? Ok… well I’m just gonna go ahead and start to wake you up now… “

I hear the discussion, it reverberates around my soft, warm sheets until my eyes slowly flicker open and I realize that the full extent of my inability to think about, and do simple things – otherwise known as a hang over. I word which at times like this I absolutely despise. Hearing it now I envision some corporate lackey walking into their company in the morning with an icepack on his or her head to be greeted an Office Space type co-worker with a smile plastered on his space that doesn’t waver as he exclaims,

“You Sir, look you have a hangover!”

My mouth feels like some desert country that’s just been robbed for not only its water, but also its oil. Every motion of my head is equivalent to its pain in speed and as I peel a condom off my forehead, I turn to realize there is a strange girl in the bed next to me.

No, I’m not hung over – I’m fucked up.

Content to simply roll off the bed onto the ground I do so, after about two and a half rotations I made it to a pair of my basketball shorts on the other side of my small bedroom. I slid them on and slowly attempted standing up. Grabbing my notepad I made my way towards the bathroom across the hallway from my bedroom, closing the door behind me the first thing I did was anchor my mouth underneath the sink faucet before cranking the cold water on full blast. The liquid overflowed my eager mouth and spilled down my bare chest. I drank until the taste of water emerged from the otherwise neutral goodness and I felt need to stop before I puked. I collapsed back down on the toilet, my chest was heaving from my heavy breathing. I can’t believe I’m out of fucking breath I thought, even feeling a couple beads of moisture on my forehead. Yeah, practice is going to be fun today.

I sat there on the toilet for a good length of time scribbling down some thoughts from the night before and just in general, I didn’t even need to pee. Getting severely wasted is a restart for my mental system, I always find I can do some quality thinking on the toilet in the first place, but after a night of partying and I’m on that proverbial windows loading screen it’s usually amplified in an ironic way. I couldn’t tell you how to spell my first name, but the whispers of the universe seem to be a bit more audible – perhaps because all of the programs going on upstairs haven’t quite kicked in yet.

Finally I got up and after taking another lengthy drink of water I wondered back across the hallway to my room. I tossed my notebook aside and dove back into my bed, waking the girl up on purpose as I did so.

“Hey there” I said softly with a goofy smile. “Umm… two questions. 1. What’s your name? and 2. Want to have sex again?”

2

I like it, particularly the part about acribbling down your thoughts on the toilet. I too am often at my most mentally alert when I’ve had a lot to drink, its just my body that needs to catch up.

Jon F

3

Yeah, it’s funny cause it’s actually based on some notes I took in a similar situation. I tried to have a bit of fun with it. It’s an excerpt from a book I’m trying to write in my spare time.

4

You switched tenses somewhere in there. That was kinda weird. The transitions from describing things to conversation weren’t very smooth, and you used number characters instead of the words for numbers. If you want to make things more interesting, instead of using adjectives directly, you could sort of twist them in. For example, instead of saying: “I pulled my head back under my warm, smooth sheets.” You could say: “I pulled my head back under the sheets, retreating to their warmth.” Some of the analogies were weird too. Sorry if all that sounds critical and unsupportive. Maybe I’m just biased against it because it’s in the “first person.”

PS: I know the lines about the sheets weren’t yours, but they were just examples I thought of (I’m lying in bed, on the laptop, and my sheets are right underneath me).

5

gobbo: funny thing about your writing is the fact that i can’t tell where the autobiographical information ends and where the fiction begins. and i don’t really care bc i like your writing anyways.

6

Thanks Alexis :smiley:

There’s more fiction than you would think… I’m not -that- cool :sunglasses:

PXC,

Yeah I understand what you’re saying. I don’t edit alot of the stuff I post on here… but you’re right, I could sharpen it up a bit.

7

Concerning the coolness of getting drunk and fucked up, I have only this to say. (watch the movie)