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“My back curves over my soft belly. My shoulders are shaking. I’m broken and folded over and sobbing. My dignity dissolves into snot and dribble. I feel wretched. I'm so sick of being scared. I could howl at the moon in my misery. Looking up through my veil of tears, I see it behind a cloud shaped like a wolf's head with its muzzle raised. Silently it howls above me. Oh great — a cloud is mocking me. Life is actually taking the piss out of me while I’m having a breakdown. It’s not even doing it behind my back. It’s up there in the fucking sky. I must be a mess if even God is mocking me.” — Paul Donaldson
My back curves over my soft belly. My shoulders are shaking. I’m broken and folded over and sobbing. My dignity dissolves into snot and dribble. I feel wretched. I'm so sick of being scared. I could howl at the moon in my misery. Looking up through my veil of tears, I see it behind a cloud shaped like a wolf's head with its muzzle raised.
Silently it howls above me.
Oh great — a cloud is mocking me. Life is actually taking the piss out of me while I’m having a breakdown. It’s not even doing it behind my back. It’s up there in the fucking sky. I must be a mess if even God is mocking me.