The Metaphoric Door

I have a small fracture to my nose and cheekbone. Walked into that door again, you know. I’m starting to wonder if I should have the door removed from my life. It keeps severely injuring my face. Doc Mick is wise to the door. He’s also wise to my pills mysteriously disappearing several days after I get a new prescription. They keep getting flushed for some reason.

Ok, I know exactly what is going on and why. The above paragraph is coded. The door is a metaphor. But you knew that already, didn’t you?

Onto other things.

I do strange things at 2am when I’m in pain:

Yes, I drank that. No, I didn’t die.

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