I’m high and drunk on wine. I’m going to write whatever I think about and want to write about, no matter ridiculous it seems, I shall write it. Fuck it. If you found yourself here you a mediocre stalker, at best, and meant to read whatever the fuck it is I say on this blog from now on.
I already know that I have a tendency to post then read, edit, and re-post, several times until I get it right. Please forgive my impetuousness. I’m on my second post-published edit.
I like to drink. I used to drink vodka for the last 3 years but I quit and now I only drink wine.
So, that’s cool and socially acceptable, right? Much better than being shitfaced on vodka on a Sunday night and start a fight with my boyfriend that ends with a leaf-blower being thrown the 60″ smart tv.
I need to go to bed, but it’s Saturday night and my boyfriend is mad at me, so even though I already took my “night-night” medicine, I want to stay up…because…I fucking can sans guilt.
I had a good thought but I lost it. I thought closing the laptop would be good to get the light out of my face, therefore, making my mind somehow, more, creative.