End Of All Hope.

I should just crawl into a bottle the way that you do to deal with the world. I could be a functional alcoholic at this point. It’s not Iike I have much to I’ve for that the alcohol would affect.  And I have a never ending way to access the alcohol. It would be fitting seeing how you are the one who taught me how to do drink and how to use it to ignore the problems in my world and numb the fucking pain. It’s not like I haven’t been functional and drunk before. Hell at the end of the job I had to drink to forget my problems there. Never on shift but very often after that would be how I Dealt with a bad day.

Maybe it’s time to become the abyss. It’s not like I have much to live for. The bottle beckons every day. The fact I have the equivalent of a Texas mickey in my possession means I can easily get smashed in and on any fucking moment I choose to.

I never should have lost my anger and replaced it with hope. Because one kept me going and the other one just leaves me disappointed and depressed.

It would be very easy to turn back into darkness and stop caring about the world and people in it. I have made choices to make sacrifices but I feel that it has fallen on deaf ears to the one that mattered most and I was always better off when I was angry, selfish and alone. Maybe it’s time to go back to that. 

After all that’s the me you find most fucking attractive.