So You Want to Die

Gravediggaz- leftovers theme

Them bible folks say god rested on the seventh day- on my seventh day I got drunk. I hoped by putting my drinking out there in this blog world that would keep me sober-so I wouldn’t let down the tens upon tens of people who read this. But what it really boils down to is I still hate myself. This is not looking for self-pity for this is a reality I need to fix. I can use music, girls, the gym, or even writing to mask over this hatred, but deep down inside me there is an evil I can’t get rid of and it wants to destroy me. It’s the evil that stops me from calling someone before I go to the liquor store. It’s the evil that tells me lies about my self-worth. It’s the evil that wants me to self destruct because I feel that’s all I am worth. It’s an evil that makes suicidal ideation a norm of my daily life. It’s an evil that wants to push every and away anyone that cares for me because I don’t deserve love. I am more honest with these words here than I can be to anyone in real life. Who would trust me anyway when I told so many lies about my drinking before. I have became so good at being a chameleon I don’t know even know who I am anymore. I am Don Draper wishing just to be Dick Whitman. I worry I am too fucked up to be helped- the damage to severe. The tortured drunk artist is a myth. Bukowski did his best work sober. And I have no idea what it means to be happy. God I wish I could be sober. God I wish I knew what it meant to be happy. Until then I bitterly trudge on hoping to find something to cure me from this evil that has invoked my brain.

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