musings of an alchoholic
i am feeling rather pitiful, this post midnight hour.
i am realizing of late that i think i drink too often. i want to try a week without. this week, the total count from monday night:
the problem with drinking = talking.
i talk way too much when i drink and then i ride all the way home and think, "oh dear god, i wish i hadn't said that." i cringe inside when the alcohol gives my hyper-critical internal voice the wings to let loose and fly around those i love.
what embarrassment is mine.
it also makes me feel sorry for myself.
why can't i make lovely things?
why can't i be someone else?
why. why. why am i entirely directionless and lost?
it's the most bewitching hour, and i think i will instead