It is only on a day like today; That I woke up wearing yesterday’s clothes, mascara smeared under my eyes and half of my hair defying gravity, half playing gravity’s bitch. A day that I wake up to the taste of vodka, the sound of ringing and smell of second hand smoke. A day that my walk’s a sway and my talk’s a grunt. It is only on a day like today that although received with an expression of pain and disdain I harboured a subtle appreciation for your 8am wolf whistle you very strange man.

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