Double-shift

It’s one thirty-nine in the morning. I agreed to stay a double-shift with the condition of having my Sunday off. To top it off, I went out last night and didn’t have much fun. I had a bit too much to drink, and spent a bit more than I should have. I slept only five hours and now I’m here, mumbling words that make a rare sense. I have crawled back to my womb, and while walking the floors of this labyrinth, I found myself afraid of the dark. I was falling asleep, as if from a cliff. It started raining, I just don’t know since when. The cars hiss by, and the raindrops hit the window pane, a deafening silence settles in. Should I tell the story of my adventurous night out? Well, it wasn’t adventurous at all. Tomorrow I had convened to see my biological father on line through webcam. I haven’t seen him in ages. Recently, I saw my mother along with my other sister, the middle-one. Now that I think about, I am making progress. But I must abandon certain madness before I want to embrace this new light. This is –perhaps, up to date, the worst blog entry made.