by Maria de Lima

I, Mercury

Damia wants more Kai. Yeah, Kai, that guy I told you about who lives to get high. I don’t want her to get hurt, but she’s insistent she’s in love. So is he, I tell her, with alcohol. She won’t listen, and I hate mothering, so our conversation stalls.

Where do these soul wounds come from that leave us inebriated to survive? Searching for dopamine highs from work, porn, alcohol, heroine, shopping, food… My bank says it’s concerned and has partnered with Mental Health UK. I ask Damia if she thinks they could help out, help out with Kai?

Thanks for reminding me, says Damia grimacing, I need, need, to pay my credit card today.