walking wounded
But alas, all I ever had was alcohol, and sure to many that is all the hideaway necessary, but for me I'm wary of hangovers. Isn't that absurd?
I've not drank in nearly two weeks. It's almost as though I'm forcing myself not to right now. To add to my hurt.
The "hurt" is caused by finances, as usual. By wondering how I got myself to this point and with so little to show for it. My resume is banal.
I measure daily success based on positive or delightful interactions with other people. Unfortunately, in my most personal life, I have been very unsuccesful (by that definition) in the last few days. Somehow I have managed to be both obsessed and selfish. Two things I've been accused of before. It's that part of me that terrifies the opposite sex.
Most human beings have bodies, equipped with hair, nails, skin, and bone to protect there vital organs and nervous system.
Not me, I'm just raw flesh and nerves, exposed entirely.
It appears my substance can cause suffocation, too. Which eliminates a sense of desire, anticipation, or longing from anyone I'm close to (or obsessed with).
I know the truth about myself. It doesn't take another person telling me to realize this. And yet I'm still told. Not the first and surely not the last time.
My fear is that I cannot be loved for a life time as a result.
Just because everything is shifting soon may not mean everything is going to change - for the better or worse.
I just wish I had a good nasty habit to pass the time away.
