weekend mania.
just lost it friday. Β
got finished with work (haha work, oh work you asshole) at 7am
and to be honest i was thinking about getting something to drink at like 5am
i wish i had just one person i wasn't afraid of hurting to talk to anything
at all
about
someone to explain to that if i write a "2" and it turns out like a "z"
on some stupid fucking paper-work, that i just want to scream.
who could understand that?
why would anyone want to?
i don WANT to myself.
so i get done with work, i scare the living shit out of my brother and father (who's birthday it was on friday none the less)
and in the midst of all that depression and self loathing and self medicating with cheap vodka
i find some mania
and i go to my friends house (my brother drove me but i was about to drive there)
and i talk.
and i contemplate, and muse, and there's just nothing on the other end.
and two days later, still empty, i need to talk to SOMEONE.
