ploptoken

FUCK i h8 soberity. having to think. feel. miss the pain. this sucks. and you. you are just reading this. i don't know what's worse. when i want the pain to go away, or when i want it back. i keep drinking like it's helping me, but the tingle in my head it hurting.

the IMs don't stop. i have a thought and i get distracted from an IM from a friend of mine in Cali going to Kuwait.

as i prey to Lord Pesci, i ask, please don't destroy New Orleans. it's a stinky den of filth and debauchary, but i love it. i don't wanna see it swallowed by Ivan.

wow, is that whiskey? the burning in my throat says it's straight, but i'm not sure. oh, that's what i remember.... the warm relaxation of the alcohol as i feel it go down my body. starting at the best of my head...

slowly trickles down and relaxes all the muscles on the way down... breathing gets easier... heart beat slowly raises...eye lids no longer struggle against gravity... oh please kiss me.

tell me you love me. i don't care if you are lieing. i need that right about now. don't dedicate yourself to me, because i will not do the same for you. but please, stay with me. i know you have to so, but your shape is so gorgeous in this light. your pale skin, scarred and peirced, tattoo'd and white. lovely and leaving. please stay with me just a little longer, i love the feeling of you laying next to me.

i need to stop now. Knob Creek is a wonderful thing. i love you.