I don’t even know. Just like, coasting.
Here are some drafts from my phone and voice recorder. Just for kicks.
“if i wanted to be sober, i wouldn’t have gotten drunk!”
sometimes i think the only reason people even go out instead of staying in is just to be able to say they went.
TODAY I TOLD A COWORKER THAT HER CROCK POT PIZZA LASAGNA SOUNDED LIKE THE MOST LUSH, AMERICAN SOUNDING FOOD…. WHILE I WAS PRACTICALLY BATHING IN CHEETO DUST.
watching lotro streams at work cuz i got the withdrawals
*WATCHING LOTRO STREAM*
“oh, yeah i’m here and it’s – why is that cat on fire?”
there was a cat on fire. but he was just running along just fine.
i want a fire cat.
i think it’s been at least a week since i last purged. Suck it, bulimia.
Here’s a drunk poem:
punishment for eating
now i’ve switched to crosses
? to disappear?
punish the fat
rejection of self
For some reason Iike to talk about how I hate organized religion when I’m drunk.
dear self: stop talking about theology while impaired.
My nightmares can be pretty brutal: i had a dream i was a famous lead vocals/guitarist in a cool metal band with matt and off’d myself onstage during a cover of SWEET CHILD O’ MINE.
I’m late for work *aaaannnnddddd post*