January the first

A couple of minutes before midnight I was listening to one of my favourite Depeche Mode songs “Never let me down again”. And at the same time, I was cleaning my mouth with a sip of absinthe. Yes, the initial idea was to swallow it, but I choked it back up, washed my mouth and spat it out. Well, I wouldn’t have done it if I had had my Desperado’s to celebrate.

I wonder how old do alcoholics have to be till they realize that sorrow can swim? And that oblivion exists only in space? There is nothing that one can escape on earth. And I like it that way. I like watching people that run away because it makes me feel better about myself. It’s the only time I am too lazy to run away. I’d rather look at it and have it done with. It might even give me something to write about. Most people view it way too dramatic. The numbness has nothing to offer me, like in the last two months I was numb as though on anesthetic. After that short story piece, I had nothing to write about.

Last night I was also reading Wilde’s short story “The fisherman and his soul”. There is nothing worse than abandoning oneself.

During the attempted meditation session I got carried away. You are supposed to empty your head, but recently my head’s been filling itself up with shit leaving my stomach to digest. It’s not an easy thing to digest.

When I arrived I weighed 47kg. I don’t remember the last time I weighed below 50kg. By the time I leave home, I will be bloated and heavy, however, not in a good way.

Also having trouble breathing and lacking privacy is one of the main reasons why I long to be on my own again.

I hope this year I will meet someone who also leaves his green tea teabag in his cup because nothing ever gets too bitter.

This year I must be faithful to myself. There are no excuses.

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