These bars are filled with things that kill, by now you probably should have learned.

And so passes yet another night of alcohol-fueled debauchery and misbehavior. I came so close to doing something I would have regretted, and I’m glad I had the presence of mind, even in my inebriated state, to realize that things were getting out of control. And man, did I come close. Whew. And as is so often the case lately, it was in front of a bunch of my friends. I’d love to be able to crawl inside their heads and see what they’re thinking. Is it the slightly bemused, “Oh there goes P/O again. He’s so crazy and so much fun—truly the life of every party. No wonder we keep him around.” Or has it veered off into the territory of concern or even mild alarm, “Oh no. There goes P/O again. What is going on with him? Should we talk to him? No, you talk to him. You know him better that I do. No, he was your friend first...” God forbid they move into intervention mode.

Ok, so it’s not really that bad.

I wonder if A has been spastically turning to others for physical contact. She never struck me as capable of casual (or anonymous) hookups, but then again, neither did I.

Friday night would not have been anonymous, though. Oh no. Friday night would have been with a friend who I definitely wouldn’t be comfortable upgrading to fuck-buddy status. The light of morning confirmed that.

So despite the relief of not having to face that regret, I felt like crap the rest of the weekend. It was the hangover that just wouldn’t quit. You know those ones where, no matter what you do, no matter how much you eat or drink, you just can’t stop feeling shaky and disconnected? So I struggled through my day, attempting to pack up all of my belongings for my impending move (6 days and counting!), and realizing that I keep doing these self-destructive things knowing full well that they’re unhealthy, and yet I go ahead and do them anyway. Such a bizarre aspect of the human condition. What is it about potentially self-destructive things that are so attractive? Like the enjoyment of life is dependant upon the constant reminder of death.

Shit. Now that I think about it, if I’m just going to die anyway, I should have gone through with it!