That Feel

Everything seems like a good idea when you’re drunk…

I spared little emotion for my friends. none for my family. none for all those I had seen just the night before, there’s nothing that can have you writhing on the floor like angry pain blown up by a bottle of whiskey. but that’s who I was. This was any other night. just like the one a couple months ago where my friends rescued me from the police, just like the one the other week where I had rode a flight of stairs.

A text from the ex, oh yeah that woman who had left me for another man. She told me all about how I had to stop being so depressed, go get a life, this guy is so much better. You don’t say. her fault for dating a psychopathic sadist like me anyways I s’pose. Not that it felt good to hear it.

A Drunken browse at facebook. Oh yeah, all these people. all these people posting things on my wall. If font could yell it did. It didn’t matter anyways. I didnt care much for hate. There we’re always plenty of people to hate me just for who I am, and not just the things I’ve done.

A knife. There’d be blood everywhere. It’d be spectacular. what an amazing album cover. but how would I take the photo, or shall i stick a postit on my dead forehead? ‘This is art. take a photo’.  Seemed like a clear idea. Killing myself wasnt the question, it was how. what would scar all these people more? what would be my last work of art?

A knife to the heart, Now just to push harder. like giving birth I spose. Not that ill ever know, I’m a man after all.

A hazy bright square of light from the floor. someone calling out to me, a text and no less… ‘a don’t do it’? haha no, p’robly not…

“Anna likes you”

…

What a sobering thought. suddenly given a reason to live at the end of it all. That’s not fair, its not how you play the game. Who is this person? do they deserve me alive? what claim do they have to my existance that It seems I do not? Drunken versions of these thoughts whir about my head.

I put the Knife down, a couple of cuts, but spared, it was a big knife anyways. Much vomiting and writhing continues. shouldn’t of drunk so much on an empty stomach. I was trashed and alone, but, bitterly, I knew I’d survive. I always do, always have. Though this time I wasnt as dissapointed. I was happy, just a little, at heart.

She’s now the love of my life

>Its a happy story really<

😀