(no subject)
You know it's an incredibly strange feeling to lay in bed at night and think, "how will I poison myself tonight?"
As soon as eleven o' clock rolls around I start to get antsy, wondering what ingredients I will use in what I call my nightly Roofie-colada. I know eleven sounds a bit early to be itching for bed, but it takes a while for the party mix of cold medicine, cough syrup, sedatives, antihistamines, (useless, useless) sleeping pills, and alcohol to all team up together in my bloodstream and knock me out before I get to watch another fucking sunrise.
I am...so bleedin' tired.
As soon as eleven o' clock rolls around I start to get antsy, wondering what ingredients I will use in what I call my nightly Roofie-colada. I know eleven sounds a bit early to be itching for bed, but it takes a while for the party mix of cold medicine, cough syrup, sedatives, antihistamines, (useless, useless) sleeping pills, and alcohol to all team up together in my bloodstream and knock me out before I get to watch another fucking sunrise.
I am...so bleedin' tired.