3.1.12

Oh, these horrors.



Listening to these brutals (because there are these type of people who hang out at coffee-shops) talk talk talk on and on about meth addicts they've lived with, coke trips, and that sort-of half-dead but still "living" kind of life. Quoting them:

"I don't drink that much, but I can fucking drink hard liqueur."


"I'm not that good of a dad, ignore daddy."


"You drink the most out of all of us."


"You have to hear this story--", one guy.


"When he was drinking a 26 of wild(something), 24 of Morgan's Lucky."


"And she just looked at me, and I wasted."

Laughing about the hours and hours and hours they have been wasted, almost pissing themselves over times they have been pissed.

"At my wedding social, I fully pre-gamed so bad that I passed out drunk."


And they have a friend they keep referring to as "weasel". Their topics are making me nauseous, upset and sick.

Bon chance.


I feel silly even snooping or listening in--but what is the point about this type of life--what is the point of working, having a partner, drinking all throughout the day--being so common?

I mean, on occasion it is fine to go on a bender but when your whole life bends itself to the point of no return (so far gone you can not mend) --what is the point?

Oh these horrors walk the street, oh these horrors sit across from me, oh these horrors are not my friends, they were once but not again.

No comments:

Post a Comment