This is not hangover talk

When the watch suddently shows 17:00 in the afternoon you start wondering what happened between now and 5:00 in the morning when you came home. When your head was spinning and your heart pounding. What happened before that? On the buss? With the guy? With the ray-ban boy with striped t-shirt and a party in his pocket? With the guy that busted his eyebrow? You start wondering what is happening now. Is the house crashed? Who many have regrets? How many can't find their underwear or shoes? 
And time keepts moving on and I keep trying to put my memories right on the timeline. I relocate and try to put things in the right order. I fall behind in my work and every minute is another minute gone to waste, another minute I miss because I'm trying to find place for it. 


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