Around a month ago, I downed a bottle of gin, some brandy too, and tried to kill myself. I crashed my car into a tree, and I’m lucky to be alive (well, others think I’m lucky but I still feel unfortunate that I didn’t die). Yes, that’s incredibly selfish, and I guess I feel lucky that I can use the excuse of drink-driving to explain … Continue reading Confessions: journal of an out-of-control, crazy person.
So, you know you’re f***** up when you resort to stealing your flatmates alcohol because you ran out and the nearest place open at this time is over a mile’s walk away. I wouldn’t call myself an alcoholic. I don’t drink that regularly, but when I do, I go hard. When I feel down, I need something to occupy my mind, because I’m too scared … Continue reading Journal of a crazy person.
So you’re my best friend and you told finally told me You might be older, but I still love you. You may regret telling me, but I won’t let you feel like that, see I am your angel and you, my devil; we are the two I am dead and cold You are sad and old But we are meant to be, Like the sand … Continue reading Poem: love from a best friend
I’m drowning in the air that surrounds me. It’s a thick, black blanket of nothingness that takes every last ounce of energy and motivation out of me. I’m lucky if I muster up the courage to meet my basic human needs: eating and drinking are a rarity. Smoking is about as far as I can go. I’m slowly killing myself, even though I don’t mean … Continue reading Journal of a crazy person.
I feel dead. I am not really a living person; I am a walking dead person. Why do I feel like this? I guess because for the first time in my life, I have been thrown into an environment where I struggle (university). I have to actually do work to get by; something I am not used to. I can’t cope. All I do is … Continue reading Journal of a crazy person.
In reading the work of De Quincy and Baudelaire, among others, I knew that my life had changed, because they were the main reason I ever tried alcohol and drugs in the first place. To me, I wanted to be a part of that culture and scene; I wanted to know what their literature was really about, and be able to understand it to the … Continue reading Are alcohol and drugs ever the answer?
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