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[Oct. 2nd, 2008|08:10 am] |
A long time ago, when I used to not be able to sleep, i'd get as drunk as my stomach could handle. If that didn't work, i'd pop as much vicodin as my liver could handle. If that didn't work, i'd pester my ex-girlfriend until she'd punch me as hard as my head could handle.
I'd usually sleep then.
Old habits die hard, eh? It's like that old lyric from that song by 'Garbage'...
...now all I wanna do is sleep.
It's 8:13 and Beth dashed off to work. I could hardly blame her. I choked her twice and she spooned me regardless. I feel sick. I couldn't even look her in the eyes. I don't want to be this person. All morning I begged with the ceiling and Jayson's ghost to please- for the love of god- make sure I got to someplace that wasn't here.
I didn't even take all my vicodin. I probably wasn't that drunk, just miserable.
I told Beth when we first met that she'd hate me eventually. That wasn't a dare or double-dare. It was a fact. I can't believe I can cut off her air and she'll squeeze my hand tighter instead of pushing it off her throat. I'm fucking disgusting. I want to leave her for her own good. She deserves better. How can such dysfunction make her happy when she knows it's impossible for me to change or reform? What hope is she holding on to?
I'm hungry.
I wish I still had a job. I wish I wasn't whoring myself out to photographers on the internet. I don't want to do any of this. I feel defeated. It's fucked up that i'm trying to deny myself the one goddamn thing that makes me happy.
Beth, I mean... aside from drugs or whatever. Ha. That's sick. Really.
When all of your wishes are granted (eh wot?) [...]
...many of your dreams will be destroyed.
It's all my fault. :( |
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