I don’t drink. Not because of a pretentious/self-righteous reason but simply because I do not like how it leaves a strange taste in my mouth. As soon as it touches my lips, I recoil. Get out of my system, my body seems to scream.

The past two nights however have been drowned with liquid courage. I have been alone in a hotel room far away from home. The only way (it seems) to lull myself to sleep is by going through a few bottles (it was the boys’ idea).

I like how it empties my brain. I no longer feel fear, anxiety, worry, and dread that often haunt me until the wee hours of the morning.

I am not entirely proud of myself. But at the very least it helps me silence the monsters in my head.


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