A secret Story Book.

November 18th, 2011,Friday.

For the first time in my life I want to be completely shit-faced. So drunk that I’ll only laugh, and forget. To forget him, and her. And the wounds in my back, and the breaks in my heart. The people who aren’t here anymore, about the people who were never here. That all the words I held under my breath, that slowly build up would just pour out into a long drunken slur. And be completely numb, and pass out, and not give a fuck in the world. To think of just nothing for a while. To wake up the next day feeling the effects of the night before and not even remember what the fuck happened. To throw up all the shame, the drink, the pain, the misery and the life. I’d just like this, for one moment, for one night. To escape with someone else, just this once.

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