Complacency, pt. II

Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before

It is always so fucking exhausting when the body anticipates waking up before the alarm is able to. Feels as if your entire physical will crumble on you at any time during the day without a moment's hesitation. Clearly I have had no rest. But that's hardly the truth. I do in reality had enough of rest. The problem is when the time of rest doesn't even abide by any schedule and you wake up late at night not knowing what to do afterwards.

My schedule was to head to Brighton. After all these fuckingly retarded years. Iceland instigated all of this, and I am yet in the same bind; cash was scarce and nobody was there to lift me back up to save me from myself. It is a sad state of affairs indeed; now I comtemplate whether the plan to visit Sabrina in Wien was a good idea. There is nothing here for me in London but an unlimited supply of restarts, after all.

I had arrived in Euston with enough time to roam about and gather food for myself and whatnot. The station was swarmed with all kinds of monstrosity. It was a busy morn, and, fortunately for me and us, it wasn't as wet as we had expected. In fact, I almost could not leave home because I was too bothered by the intensity of my dandruff that time, and it took me great effort just to hide it. Two films in a row before I left was perhaps a bad idea. My feet then dragged me all the way to a busy Marks and Spencer nearby. Nabbed myself two bags of salmon sushi, a bottle of water, and some sandwich that I didn't even bother to touch until the end of day. It didn't take long before Erica had contacted me through Facebook asking of my whereabouts.

"I am inside All Bar One," I said.

"Ha ha! We're in front of you." God, how my goosebumps rose.

Moments later she arrived absent her brother, but still carrying the thick aura of insufferability. I could not even be bothered to smile upon her arrival. We hugged, exchanged pleasantries, while wanting to stab each other in the back when the other one's not expecting.

Noticeably I enquired about this mystery of the absence of her younger sibling. "He's outside in the sun," she replied. She gets easily annoyed when I ask her about her life, as if I was some sort of creeper, but isn't it good character to ask a friend updates about their condition and standing in general? I don't think I even overreach. She does not even have a very interesting life story to begin with. She's unemployed, leeching off of his English boyfriend's livelihood, as much as she tries to deny the very existence of it. There is so much fiery pride in her with little to offer back that it perhaps puts even mine to shame. One can only be so shamelessly piggish and fed with pride that there is really nothing inside them of substance but it.

The three of us had been given little no choice but to suffer each other's company for about an hour or so while waiting for Iceland's arrival. It was then that Erica informed me that Angelo and Bruna already arrived in Brighton hoping to join us. They took the easier route by train because there wasn't enough room for all of us. And, no offence to Bruna, but she's a bit on the chunky side and we'd have trouble slapping our asses to our seats had she been there with us. Thankfully Erica's brother, Vitor, had not his sister's everything; from the looks to his character; to his demeanour; and his smile. Every single thing seemed the polar opposite. It would be easy to mistake them both as step-siblings or something.

Sooner or later, both Iceland and Annabelle arrived just in the nick of time before my wits started to roam off.

Okay, so the road trip did not turn out easy at all. In fact, what was supposed to be an hour-and-a-half ride suddenly became a three-hour-something slog. I would have forgiven the occasion had the company not been so utterly and disgustingly boring as shit. I have no idea how they could have survived that trip without the intervention of Angelo or someone. He was the only vibrant soul in the group that shone a bright light of hope in an otherwise sea of zombiehood mediocrity. Personalities just didn't have any chemistry at all, and we were mostly grasping at straws on what to do and where next to go.