(no subject)
At this moment, I am more drunk than I have ever been in my entire life.
I am typing this entry to test my cognitive abilities. I hate -- I DESPISE -- the lack of control over my motor skills, the inability to form coherent sentences in my mind before submitting them to the screen. I cannot feel my lips, and my fingers are not far behind them. Even now, I have had to correct my spelling, grammar, and sentence structure more times than I ever have before. I keep having to backspace, delete and re-type. Not a good sign for someone who prides hmself in his grammatical ability -- not to mention his restraint.
What have I had to drink? Well, let's see if I can remember, or even relate the list coherently: I've been downing Jell-O shots since about 6:30 (it's about 11:30 now), slammed down 4 (maybe 5?) Irish Car Bombs, and done 4.5 shots of Cuervo.
I don't usually drink -- for this very reason. I hate this feeling. I am in control of nothing; not my motor skills, not my communictive abilities, nothing. I feel like I'm numb from the lips down. I've torn my pants at the crotch (my ONLY serviceable pair of work pants), and I'm still too drunk to noticeably care until tomorrow.
I have typed this entry in varying degrees of sobriety throughout the night. It was started at 12:13am and finished at 5:32. Why have I done this? It is my friend's birthday; I have submitted to the wiles of social pressure and imbibed more than I would ever have done on my own. This is a party, yes; the type of undertaking I would have shunned as little as three years ago, and now it pervades the very house I live in. To be fair, the house is not mine, nor am I renting it; the right to organize and host such a gathering lies with my roommate and friend. Still, I have partaken of the evening's festivities far more than I might otherwise have done. Why, you might ask, have I done this?
Because I want to belong. I want to have a large number of people that care about my life enough to show up at my house and make total asses out of themselves. I want to be able to get drunk enough to entertain an entire room and have them love me for it. I want everything I have never had or been.
But I don't.
But I do.
I am mostly sober now. Have I deteriorated to the point that I must be inebriated to be honest with myself?
Fuck. How am I going to replace these pants?
I am typing this entry to test my cognitive abilities. I hate -- I DESPISE -- the lack of control over my motor skills, the inability to form coherent sentences in my mind before submitting them to the screen. I cannot feel my lips, and my fingers are not far behind them. Even now, I have had to correct my spelling, grammar, and sentence structure more times than I ever have before. I keep having to backspace, delete and re-type. Not a good sign for someone who prides hmself in his grammatical ability -- not to mention his restraint.
What have I had to drink? Well, let's see if I can remember, or even relate the list coherently: I've been downing Jell-O shots since about 6:30 (it's about 11:30 now), slammed down 4 (maybe 5?) Irish Car Bombs, and done 4.5 shots of Cuervo.
I don't usually drink -- for this very reason. I hate this feeling. I am in control of nothing; not my motor skills, not my communictive abilities, nothing. I feel like I'm numb from the lips down. I've torn my pants at the crotch (my ONLY serviceable pair of work pants), and I'm still too drunk to noticeably care until tomorrow.
I have typed this entry in varying degrees of sobriety throughout the night. It was started at 12:13am and finished at 5:32. Why have I done this? It is my friend's birthday; I have submitted to the wiles of social pressure and imbibed more than I would ever have done on my own. This is a party, yes; the type of undertaking I would have shunned as little as three years ago, and now it pervades the very house I live in. To be fair, the house is not mine, nor am I renting it; the right to organize and host such a gathering lies with my roommate and friend. Still, I have partaken of the evening's festivities far more than I might otherwise have done. Why, you might ask, have I done this?
Because I want to belong. I want to have a large number of people that care about my life enough to show up at my house and make total asses out of themselves. I want to be able to get drunk enough to entertain an entire room and have them love me for it. I want everything I have never had or been.
But I don't.
But I do.
I am mostly sober now. Have I deteriorated to the point that I must be inebriated to be honest with myself?
Fuck. How am I going to replace these pants?