the rain is testing its relationship against my single-glazed windows the droplets fatten & throw themselves with force like how the personal trainer from manchester is thrusting himself upon the influencer-slash-model from newcastle as she time & time again bats his hand away from holding hers once he performs the laborious task of putting all his eggs in her basket he can sleep soundly surrounded by dozens knowing he’s bagged a fit bird meanwhile the rain has proven itself & cracks on through the glass steadily damping my carpet while i watch love island in my flooded living room ankles damp & dripping the country exclaims as we got a text (!) i leave the government on read as if i’d go outside anyway bc … TONIGHT … there is a bombshell entering the villa & they’re looking to graft the existing couples quake in their skimpy swimwear oiled muscles undulating at the possibility of being pulled for a chat meanwhile ice has formed a strong connection with the murky swamp that is my house now the season has come to an end & i don’t know where my head’s at i’ve accidentally mugged off all my friends my cold damp house is unfit to live in & i can’t afford to buy any groceries but oh to be in the villa no wifi no books no war no outside no thoughts no worrying just two drinks per night just sitting by the pool just chatting just vibes just fucking vibes