Just another twelve hours.

It starts with a few beers.
It goes from one bar to the other.
It is the spotty face of the first year student
asking too many questions
and being shocked on hearing the deserved response.
It is walking home and finding a group of four
sober individuals entitled 'street angels.'
It is following them as they 'work'
only to denounce god before the police
escort you away from them.

It is getting home to find the bedroom
and bathroom flooded with saturated food
and its saturator.
It is cursing at the ceiling
with threats and abuse,
waiting for the oppurtunity to release.
It is passing out.

It is waking to the same mess.
It is needing sex and it not being there.
It is putting your card in to the cashpoint
to be told 'no'
It is a group of students that are in the way.
It is a public display of 'fucks' and 'cunts'
delivered at their nervous faces.
It is a small, wry smile.
It is just another twelve hours.