The Beauty and Grotesque of a Common Life - Sunday

Interrupted. 
from the suicide attempt survivor's journal:
I got it all wrong again. So I went out on Saturday, just as usual, trying to get drunk and not so much and maybe pick up some 'awkward'. By that I mean someone resembling to me: acting all easy going and relaxed, but actually tight and only looking for a shag while feeling completely inadequate. 

I got some mellow social moment instead: the conversation went well for the better of the evening, the stars were all aligned and I felt quite OK. As time passed, I didn't feel the need for sex anymore, just wanted to get drunk and then Uber my ass home. Then,
this guy went in for the kill and I was like: 'meh', that would be to complicated, I simply couldn't be bothered anymore. So I just mumbled something and left. For some strange reason, I didn't want to give the impression that I was straight, so I just left him there to fantasize about what could have been. Interrupted. Shot down. Again.

Woke up with the usual headache and the self-loathing level being quite bearable. I just spent the rest of the day in bed eating take-out pizza, planning how to try and lose some weight, all this time listening to some crappy albums I dug out from the depths of Youtube.

To sum it up, no sex, got drunk again, self loathing at normal levels, still feeling trapped, in all not so bad.


"Sometimes we cry ourselves to sleep Sometimes you find yourself all alone"


                                                                                                                     A Pale Horse Named Death - Die Alone

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