Need. Alcohol. Now.

It all comes sweeping back. The memories. The visions. The words that were said. And those that weren't. The feelings in my head.

All together now. All in that one single moment. A plethora of emotions, recollections. Like a giant wave suddenly rushing into the sides of my brain, crashing and churning. Like a surge of liquid insistently calling attention to itself. Wanting, trying, to envelop me...to drown me.

And the bottle holds it all.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

'Guilt alone, like brain-sick frenzy in its feverish mood, fills the light air with visionary terrors, and shapeless forms of fear.'

P.S. I've recently learnt that I suck at writing pornography. Another alternative career gone out the window. Ah well.