Between 3 and 4 in the morning, an extremely wasted woman starts hurling rocks (towards…sometimes) at her own front door, screaming at who I can only assume is her slightly less wasted husband, to


This loop is interspersed with door pounding while screaming


along with short bursts of relative calm. this is when she stands directly under my window (which stops nothing. not sound, or smell, or my boiling hatred) to smoke a cigarette and gather her strength for the next round.

Every night.

They’re doing it now, or I would be sleeping, as it’s 3:25am.

so Ill do my nightly 911 call. she will get hauled to the drunk tank. and tomorrow it will start all over.

sweet dreams. 😁😑

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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