msjessica's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I have more to say, I'll be back soon. So over the last couple of weeks I've probably been drinking more than I have since I moved to Lismore. I haven't drunk like this since that last month or two in Bondi, drinking everyday, long before the sun goes down, mornings really just killing time and thoughts until I give in and make a trip to the bottle shop. I always wonder what the staff at my local bottle shops think of me. If it's obvious when I start to slip. if it's sadder than the usual old men clientele, this young girl making trips there everyday, sometimes more than once, not making eye contact and fumbling with her change. Sometimes I see their pity. - The other day, Monday, I ended up just going to the pub. I had four beers, just wrote and sat in an empty beer garden listening to The Black Keys and staring into space. Decided to get a bottle of scotch and get so drunk I could lose time, not think at all, just function on auto pilot. I don't remember much after my first whiskey when I got home. I was so set on just not being myself that I didn't even sit at my computer, didn't even get sad or self destructive, just blissfully and fabulously absent. Sang PJ Harvey songs on the balcony with my housemate, then went into a dark and empty sleep abyss, awoke with a smile on my face and not even that bad a hangover. I guess that's maybe some kind of bad sign. I feel it's ok though because I'm going away soon. I'm moving up the coast, I'll be exercising and getting better life skills and not drinking much and living well and..... So now I can finally just give in for a little while? Stop trying to so hard to be good, to be better, it is exhausting. It feels so beautiful to let go and just do whatever the fuck I want. That being said, I'm not even going that far. If I could, I would just drink the next three weeks away, not leave my bed (except for Harvest Festival this weekend - couldn't miss drug and booze and music 2 day bender!). I would not pay rent (I've already missed a week and poured the money down my throat), I would not do uni, I would forget the future and probably live too much in the past. I would rot and stink, I would cry and puke, I would laugh at nothing, I would scream at the walls and the sky, I would forget most of this and the days would all be a blur. I would shake and convulse, I would arrive at my sisters completely broken and ruined physically, which would feel fitting and appropriate. "Every day turns out to be a little bit more like Bukowski, but god who'd want to be such an asshole". I can't do this because it's selfish and mean. But that's what my heart is doing. And I will only live out what is borderline acceptable by the people who love me. 2:31 p.m. - 2012-11-14 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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