ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
WAKING UP EARLY ON SATURDAY afternoon, 29-year-old Carter Stephens didn’t feel like doing much – in fact, he doesn’t feel like doing anything until Monday.
It feels like ants are crawling all over his brain. He’s almost convinced himself that he’s dying.
Thoughts of doing Dry July are crossing his mind, despite his birthday being in the year’s coldest month.
Stephens spoke to The Advocate briefly at 3 o’clock, saying the rest of his weekend will be filled with deep introspection, podcasts and general malaise.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I never wanted it to happen,’ he said.
“But a force came over, all the voices in my head told me to go to the pub. The only way to make them stop is to drink my weight in $10 Tiger jugs,”
“What’s wrong with me? I used to have hobbies and shit. Sometimes, I’d even go to the beach from time to time.”
Stephens then shared his plan to spend the rest of his Saturday sitting in a lawn chair in the shower, listening to Currents with some expensive sunglasses on – as the warm water laps at his soul.
