Why do I do this to myself?
Perhaps it is the human desire to take any gratification, even if it's only in the moment, no matter how transitory.
I got drunk again tonight. 4 years to the day since Nicky and I started going out. She got married some time last year... while we were dating. I should have let this shit go a long time ago. But I like inflicting bloody wounds on myself. I like to cut myself with my memories. After all, if you don't bleed, you're not alive, right? It doesn't matter, it's a moot point. For several hours tonight I was alive. a shot of tequilla, a shot of vodka, a shot of Black Haus. Then a strawberry Bacardi and another... a double shot of Sake... then a shot of Bacardi Gold. I was alive. Killing my liver, blubbering brain cells, getting horny as hell without outlet.
This is what it takes to be alive.
Horny as hell and too drunk to drive. But at least I'm alive. I say what I mean. Hell, if someone I thought were hot was around I'd probably even tell them how I felt. No inhibitions. The walls that are James are down. But in the morning they will be back. I will resent the letdown. Have a guilty feeling to go with this post, and somewhere the unquenched desire to have someone else to feel this with.
What a sorry wretch I am.
Perhaps it is the human desire to take any gratification, even if it's only in the moment, no matter how transitory.
I got drunk again tonight. 4 years to the day since Nicky and I started going out. She got married some time last year... while we were dating. I should have let this shit go a long time ago. But I like inflicting bloody wounds on myself. I like to cut myself with my memories. After all, if you don't bleed, you're not alive, right? It doesn't matter, it's a moot point. For several hours tonight I was alive. a shot of tequilla, a shot of vodka, a shot of Black Haus. Then a strawberry Bacardi and another... a double shot of Sake... then a shot of Bacardi Gold. I was alive. Killing my liver, blubbering brain cells, getting horny as hell without outlet.
This is what it takes to be alive.
Horny as hell and too drunk to drive. But at least I'm alive. I say what I mean. Hell, if someone I thought were hot was around I'd probably even tell them how I felt. No inhibitions. The walls that are James are down. But in the morning they will be back. I will resent the letdown. Have a guilty feeling to go with this post, and somewhere the unquenched desire to have someone else to feel this with.
What a sorry wretch I am.
[Edited on May 10, 2006 11:38PM]