Warning! Emo!
◊ I am drunk. I am inventing reasons to feel sorry for myself.
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I am broke and out of beer.
My house hasn't been truly clean for two months.
One of my exes kept all my Rancid CDs when we broke up. I still haven't replaced them. The bastard still has one of my guitars, too.
The fucking insomnia.
I don't have any Tom Waits CDs, and I medically need to hear "The Piano has been Drinking." Now.
There were a couple of born-again Christians at the party I went to tonight, and I swear those bastards make me extra-evil. Maybe too evil. I kept saying things like "If there is a God, He is one malicious motherfucker" and looked like a slutty Satanic freaky antagonistic mad bitch. Which I am. But I don't necessarily want people knowing it.
I had to explain what "malicious" means.
I really, really, REALLY want to get laid right now and I can't.
When I got home and unlocked the door and came up the stairs, I thought I heard music, but the house was empty and dark.
If I fall asleep tonight, I have to do it alone.
I miss Dan. I miss having someone around to drink with.
I think I will do the proper sloppy-ass drunk thing and put on some Jeff Buckley and cry.
Then tomorrow I will go back and read this entry and want to beat the shit out of myself for being a melodramatic fucktard.