honesty...or something like it...

I finally told someone.  A co-worker.  A confidant.  A close friend.

happened b/c I was very drunk and let my mouth run away at will...but I don't regret it.

I don't think....

...not sure how I feel about it.  mostly b/c I'm still drunk and I really don't give a shit about anything but sleep ATM.

sleep or puke.  that's where my priorities lie currently....I think I'll go w/sleep.  the latter is just entirely unappealing.



***

dizzy


pulse pounding in my ears; heavy w/alcohol and exhaustion.

breaths slow and jagged....but it's not so bad.

the blade holds no pull for me tonight; for the first time in a long time.

Erring on the side of tragic...

Steady diet of oxycodone, nicotine, alcohol, and caffeine.  Everything is fucked up.




But I make it look calm.  Easy.  Perfect.   Serene façade.  


You stopped looking for the cracks.  Fairly ironic; seeing as how I was so close to letting you know they do, in fact, exist.


Another pill.  Another Drink.  Smoke something.  Drink some more.  The thought of whether or not this will be my last doesn't really cross my mind.

...maybe it should.

I really shouldn't....

be drinking vodka out of the bottle like it's water.

take percocets at the same time.

give a fuck about it - but I do.

keep playing into the charade - but I am.

still be awake; alive, but hey- miracles happen.

pick that blade up anymore, but my hand feels empty without it.

be surprised; I made it so.


****

useless