Shit pommes frites

So...

Strange night.

And strangest of all is that I had pretty fun. It's all pretty blurry and I don't remember that much. I'm pretty grateful for that. As I have said before, I tend to become a sad and pathetic drunk. You don't want to remember those parts, you know? And I wonder how much money I actually spent. I think it might have been quite a lot. Well, as a friend of mine said "money should be spent right away or they start to rot."


What I DO remember is the aftermath of the cabway to S's place. It ended up in a walk all over the south side of central Stockholm, almost passing out just outside her door and falling asleep with my shirt around my neck and my coat as a cover at around 6-7 AM. Nice. That whisky really killed me. I shouldn't drink liquour. It ends up bad. Nice whisky, though. Really good.

I have the strange notion that I should shoot myself in the face, but I don't really know why. I hate being hungover. The world just seems so pointless, and I don't need that feeling to become stronger. I feel so worthless while being hungover.

God, I just want to go home and fall asleep. I HATE working while feeling like this. It really makes shit worse. I wonder if I should stop drinking or stop working? I wonder if I was rude or obnoxious? I think I was pretty rude to a bunch of cars though.

I think I'm still drunk.

Everything in my life feels very "now-or-never." Everything. And that leads to some impulsive acts quite often. I don't really know if or how that affects other people, and I am sorry if it affects anyone in a bad way. It is not my intention.

God, I hate this. I should have been sober yesterday. 4 h to go until I can leave this place and go somewhere else and feel like shit. Great. But right now anywhere is better than this place and this feeling.