Fell off the wagon the other night, decided to get drunk; got too drunk.
Called up an old druggie friend.
Went to a bar to make a deal. The deal fell through.
I ended up staying for karaoke. Dazzled the old folks with my 70's repertoire.
Fortunately, someone was there to carry me out at closing time.
A sheriff's deputy, who, coincidentally - was an old drinking buddy from high school, stopped me as I was stumbling down the middle of the road and showed great mercy on me by driving me home and making sure I passed out on my living room floor face down to avoid choking on my own vomit should problems arise.
Wasn't really hung over this morning. But, I think I may have broken a bone in my left hand, which is visibly swollen and hurts when I move it.
It was a beautiful day. The scent of blossoms, the earthy funk of the dew dampened briars and the dry cool of the desert air drifted in and out though the open windows. I sat on the floor in a square patch of light watching dust particles swirl in the rays that beamed in.
I don't know if it's the humiliation or the dull ache of my banged up hand, but I'm certain that I fucked up badly. Still, I feel a sense of resignation, which is as good as peace of mind. Where I was once overflowing with vitriolic anger and dangerous delusions of whatever, I am now sort of calm.
Still, I need to get away from, I don't know... this rut - I guess that's what you could call it.
I'm going to stay away for a while, please don't break my cyber-balls.
When I return, I will attempt to demystify the 'Nervous Breakdown' for you.
Called up an old druggie friend.
Went to a bar to make a deal. The deal fell through.
I ended up staying for karaoke. Dazzled the old folks with my 70's repertoire.
Fortunately, someone was there to carry me out at closing time.
A sheriff's deputy, who, coincidentally - was an old drinking buddy from high school, stopped me as I was stumbling down the middle of the road and showed great mercy on me by driving me home and making sure I passed out on my living room floor face down to avoid choking on my own vomit should problems arise.
Wasn't really hung over this morning. But, I think I may have broken a bone in my left hand, which is visibly swollen and hurts when I move it.
It was a beautiful day. The scent of blossoms, the earthy funk of the dew dampened briars and the dry cool of the desert air drifted in and out though the open windows. I sat on the floor in a square patch of light watching dust particles swirl in the rays that beamed in.
I don't know if it's the humiliation or the dull ache of my banged up hand, but I'm certain that I fucked up badly. Still, I feel a sense of resignation, which is as good as peace of mind. Where I was once overflowing with vitriolic anger and dangerous delusions of whatever, I am now sort of calm.
Still, I need to get away from, I don't know... this rut - I guess that's what you could call it.
I'm going to stay away for a while, please don't break my cyber-balls.
When I return, I will attempt to demystify the 'Nervous Breakdown' for you.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
Maybe the fact is you just got a long time's worth of pent-up shit out of your system.
Now move on.