i can't even go to the bar alone -- i've already established my self as the pathetic lonely drinker in both the bars within walking distance from here.
it occurs to me for the first time ever that today is the approximate date of my conception. the bed i was conceived on is in the next room, currently in use by my sister (not for the purpose of conceiving). they say it belonged to my mum at one point, but since i don't know precisely when, the best i can say is that it is the approximate bed i was made on.
ah, lucky for me i stashed some high priced bourbon a lost friend bought for me in a pretty little flask some other lost friend gave me as a birthday present.
conceived for what?
not for this pathetic existence, i hope.
i reach new lows.
time to sip.
Written Off
abominable...
proof of my existence
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