Chapter 21: Songs and Demons
When I got back to my room I turned off my mobile, curled up in bed and slept for two days. This is not an exaggeration. I felt so utterly disgusted with myself that I couldn’t face the prospect of getting out of bed and looking at myself in the mirror. It was as if a great hand has inserted itself inside my chest and was pulling at some great musical string that existed there. And the tune that it was playing was self-loathing, on a droning, never-ending loop.
Of course it wasn’t all about the shame of having slept with some stray hussy from the bar just days after having started going out with Amanda. It was also the fact that sheer physical exhaustion had caught up with me. Just two weeks before I lain on Merewether Beach half dead, and I had not even stopped to let the enormity of that event sink in. I was on high-octane fast-forward and now I had completely burnt out.
As I lay there I tried my best to block everything out of my mind, but the messages just kept coming through into my dull head. On the first day, the words to one very annoying Depeche Mode song played over and over and over in my mind.
I just can’t get, I just can’t get enough, I just can’t get enough…