mad drunk genius

I used to have all sorts of problems. Now there's just the one.

Tag: beer

I am a fool who knows better & chooses worse

April 11, 2017
——I sat here last year, also with the sun in my eyes.
What good, what hope, is there that this cycle will exceed the
prior ones?
——Waking not-hungover (tho deserved) on a couch as like
——from a nap to hear the splash of stomach purging
——into a toilet walls-away & wondering, ‘Is my
——housemate sick from some microbial invader or
——last nite’s microbrew invited excessive in?’ The
——answer of sickness put-upon or self-made soon
——arrives as he leaves his room to go to work usual.
——You must live with yr misery when you’ve earned it. 

The older I get, the more sensitive I get to my creepiness.
I always was, but I’m more aware now than then & suspect
people will be less forgiving of my flab, wrinkles,
& gray hairs.
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My memory is a lash

——’I can still feel my face so
——I’ll take another double.’
It’s plenty to see green things
curl & unfurl in fractal ecstasy
——My beer hand wasnt as cold as
——my cigarette hand, somehow.
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I hate getting a little bit drunk on the West Coast.

Because I get a bit buzzed and the thirst, you know, the real drinker’s yen inflames inside me and I look over at the clock and say, ‘God, it’s only 12:30 a.m. I could make a bar run and drink an hour, easy.’

When really I’ve got no money and nothing good will happen to me, but I’ll be alive and have fun and do things other than sit at a computer and drink beer which does nothing except makes me fat and slow. I’ll have whiskey! And whiskey will get me up and screaming laughing clapping in no time at all.

I mean, jesus. Pacific Time is forever to drink & keep drinking.

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