the table was cold... and hard..unlike a lady..

staring blankly at the empty glasses before him. Are they gone already? his eyes half closed, he curses under his breathe. it reeks badly of alchohol and seems entirely to consume him. these...things... crutches to prop up his empty self. the fragility of his very existance and the pain of it all.

he gathers himself up and stares, head slightly tilted to the back feeling his neck muscles go limp. it felt good for once, leaning like that. just lazing around. then his head felt like it was gonna snap and roll off on a trip of its own and he pulled himself up.

damn. i need more coffee. he thinks vivdly of the chemicals in his body and sniggers. pathethic. how pathetic. ahhhh.... flinging his head down in disgust he sneers at his drug dependant body and wishes he was detached from it. stop making a waste of youself... look at you.. u look like crap. he gazes at the slightly tilted window panes and gazes himself in the eye. who's that talking... was it you? his reflection seems to agree with a glassy stare.

he wished those voices in his head would stop pounding and the questions in his life would stop rushing at him like angry reporters. damn it. his head makes its way to the wooden table top of his study and crashed with a thud. he felt alone. in this whole craziness, the work piling up to his head.. the dishes sitting in the sink with gravy draped over them like a veil on bride's face.

why was he alone? he pondered as he sat there his face buried in the ceder wood of his study table and smelled the taste of varnish.oh how he longed for the warmth touch of a young lady!.. for his last relationship had left him craving for a soft kiss.. that would grow into a long locking of lips.. the twining of bodies...yes. his mind ventured off into a fantasy world. it seemed to know where it wanted to be.. and tried successfully to fuel the growing desires within him. it wanted so badly.. to turn that fantasy into reality... a lil more...

the table was cold.. and hard.. unlike a lady's shoulders. why do u think such perverse thoughts ? feeding the hunger of your lust like that...a voice within him cried out. i hate this sinful part of me. he ceased to think. the voices within him raged into a bloodthirsty rage... though he knew.. they wouldn't stop. staring blankly at the pencil that lazed at the edge of his table. it seemed to beckon to him. to write. probably some work. he looked away...