Sunk

Desperate housewives ocassionally contains some pearls of wisdom. How true what the angry pretender said, the oppositie of "love is not hate it is indifference." How much I strive for indifference.

I know I'm getting drunk when my lips go numb. I am coming to love this feeling of foggy headed numbness. I am a happy drunk after all. I am always amused how this blog is full of "I want I want I want I wish." I never wanted to become this. But I supposed no one ever does. I am self absorbed. Even worse I am typical.

Legs wanted me to come. If the other one had said she wanted me to go I probably would have. I am finnicky like that. I expect too much from people. Bless them I hope they are having fun. Truly.

I am scared by my anger these days (this entry is perpetuating my self absorbtion). So full of vitriol. Where did it come from. Where did I come from. I am a walking cliche. It is the typicality of my generation. The spolied middle class of children pretending to be full grown that relish in our troubles and wallow in our misery. Yay for us. Sucked into computer screens venting our grief and dislocation. What a useless bunch of fucktards.

I can understand why people get stoned if it makes you feel like you can fly. Adrenaline is no longer a drug, its a state. I wanted to refuse to be troubled. Here I am a fucktard. What the hell kind of reason do I have to be troubled.

I want to be an icicle or a stone. Sentience is overrated as is emotion. People think emotional cripples are sad. Maybe they've really got things right. I never thought my father would be right.

Rubberneckers turn to watch the aftermath of car crashes. We as humans love marvelling at disaster.

I love my father. I love my family. I even love my boyfriend. Yet here I am getting drunk in my room, typing my life into cyberspace. Because of the alcohol I love myself right now. How sad is that. One more beer.

I really am a happy drunk.

Well up to a certain point anyway. Now I just wanna hurl.