Hungover.

Spent the entire day yesterday watching Beavis and Butthead in a dingy, ash filled flat in Rusholme with flickering lights and a bathroom that terrifies me. A mutual friend of mine and my ex's was in Manchester for the day so that is why I spent a good seven hours smoking and watching people play computer games whilst they took it in turns to shove a Lidl pizza in the tiny, filth stained oven. It was such a return to the past I almost felt like I'd never left, having spent most of our three year romantic liaison exactly thus. The new Manchester setting had the exact same atmosphere that I adore but continuously failed to make me happy. Eternal, comforting boredom, genius witticisms that will never see the light of day past the same four people. Drinking Special Brew, chain smoking, slagging off and rejecting the outside world because they're too good for it. Being hungover, staying in your underwear all day. Getting stoned, watching Ren and Stimpy. Different place, same feeling.