I been drinking a lot lately. It might be a coincidence that over the past several weeks, there’s a party or an occasion and I am here to celebrate it, of course,  by drinking. But there are days when – just out of nowhere, after class – I decided to “git rikt” and get drunk. It reminds me of the quote I read from a friend:

“And this is when the alcohol becomes addictive. When you sober up and the sadness returns, when you long for the comfort of the temporary with a false promise that for a night, just for a night, you’ll believe that everything is fine and that you’ll be okay even though you know you’re not. Bask yourself in sadness, accept it for what it is, and when you
finally recognize what it is, let go”

Yes I’m sad. But the reason why? I have no fucking idea. Or maybe, I do know, but I’m just too stubborn to admit it. Both ways, I’m not happy, and drinking is my way to forget everything, be high and be happy. Even just for that moment. Even if the price to pay is a head ache while I throw my stomach out; dehydrated; but unquenchable because even water tastes like poison.

Maybe I’m a masochist. Because I love the feeling. I have willingly submitted myself to the bondage of alcohol. Because the high I get when the world seems to turn upside down is like orgasm that releases the shivers from my body and thus, gives me pleasure. 

I can get over this.