Alcohol, suicide, drunk, pain
|Because I know why people drink.
I know the pain they want to escape. I know how to drink to waste the lonely
spaces. I don't want to look over and realize that no one is near me. A
disposable me. A bendable me.
If you stare at something hard enough, it will fold into itself and go away.
I stare hard in the mirror. I look and look, and I am not me. I am not the
person I see in my dreams and fantasies. I can not be so dull. Drunk, the
fantasy seems so much more than real.
I know why people drink. I know the pain they want to escape. Passing out naked, vomit covered in a bathroom seems almost paradise. If they do want to die, this is so very much easier. Quicker, too.