| Without Tomorrow |
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I've come to the realization that
when I'm high, I think everything is so goddamn beautiful and when I'm drunk, I love everyone and anyone and when combined, I fall in love with most people. Sweet. Not really. My emotions almost always disgust me, whether I'm feeling too much or too little, everything or nothing. Even the feeling of disgust makes me further disgusted with myself. That probably doesn't make sense, but it does to me, in some fucked up way. Nothing crazy happened last night or anything, just went to the birthday party and stayed there for like four or five hours. I don't really know how long. We got there maybe an hour and a half after it started and there were already at least fifty people there. It was a good party. When I first got there, I felt out of place seeing as I was with Wall and his new girlfriend and it was just weird to be around that. We went and smoked and fucking Wall, fuck. I don't know how to explain it. We had this awkward tension between us because we haven't talked in who the fuck knows how long and just got thrown into being together because Twin convinced him to pick me up for whatever reason. And then there was this strange closeness between the two of us, which is the really difficult to explain thing. We were so distant with each other but still acted like we used to in small ways. I offered to hold his drink while he was smoking and then after that he just kept on having me help him out with small stuff. I don't know, it was all just weird stuff you think he would have his girlfriend do, like when he said he was cold he put his hands in his pockets and leaned against me for warmth, stepping away from her. And we talked to each other in low voices like we used to, just talking to each other instead of everyone - something he doesn't do with his girlfriend either. I don't know. Luckily the bitch took a Vicodin or some shit and ended up tripping the fuck out and going crazy and they left. I felt myself missing him for brief moments between the sting of alcohol and the smooth of smoke. I miss how we avoided emotion and just were together at times. I wanted to tell him he looked really good but fuck that. After that I went inside and drank with an old friend, got her so drunk that everyone around was concerned. But that's usual for her. So its not that big of a deal. Then I got sucked in to playing King's Cup for whatever fucking reason. Some guy who I can't remember his name offered me his chair and knelt down beside me for the rest of the game. If I had been more sober I would've thought it was sweet, but at the time all I could think was fuck, I'm going to die tonight. The champagne I had was a plastic top and even though the other day I could pop the shit off easily, I didn't want to spill or something because I was too fucked up and I was sure I'd make a girly squeal that I didn't want to be heard. I asked if someone could open it and the bottle was passed around until someone could open it. This is where enters the man I fell in love with. He opened it and when I got a fresh beer, I told him he could play with it if he wanted. I've met him before and was fixated on his humor sober, if I'm going to be completely honest. But when I'm sober I don't give much of a fuck. So as we're playing I'm just watching this guy, listening to him, laughing and smiling and wondering what it'd be like to have sex with him in the mountains. You know, what everyone is doing at a party. He's not remotely my type physically - even further than Wall is - but none of that matters because he attracts me like a moth to a light. When I draw an eight, I make him my mate. After that I'm in the zone because I know he's paying just as much attention to me as I am to him. All the boys at the table start focusing in on me and I fall in love with a few of them, too, but as I'm ranking them in my head on who would be the best person to fall asleep with, I know I want my drinking mate the most. Fast forward a while - half the game, a smoke break, another half the game, whatever, and I left to take an old Jock to get food and cigarettes. The motherfucker makes me sit with him in his car as he eats three fucking things from Taco Bell but I figure that's okay, because I've been inebriatedly in love with him for a while. I check my Facebook and see that my drinking mate has posted a couple of statuses since we started King's Cup, all talking about (in more or less words) how he's just being reminded that he has no one who loves him. I comment one of them telling him to cheer up and he says that's just another reminder. I wanted so badly to be that for him, to be the person who loves him. Again, its a hard feeling to explain. When I got back to the party I tried to talk with him for a little bit but found it difficult to concentrate while I was so gone and he was so sad. I couldn't do it. I was in love with him, but I just couldn't do it. So when Hands came up and offered me a cigarette, I went outside with him. Which was another awkward situation. We've never drank or smoked together - in fact, I was completely sober most of the time we were dating. It was fun and we always kind of cling together anyways. But his girlfriend didn't approve, of course. I heard her talking several times about me with her friends and how Hands was off spending all his time with me. She was watching me the whole night, even when I wasn't with him, and when I was she would just walk by and start making out with him and then walk away. He apologized to her a couple of times, which I also heard. It was gross, though. I wasn't in love with Hands. I loved the fact that he went and got cigarettes just so he could give me some and I love the shell of who he used to be, but he's not the same. He's not who he was with me. He never lied to me and was never fake like he is around her. Its sad, really. But she makes him feel loved and swoons over his romance, something he never got from me. I was satisfied to see her jealousy for the first time because I realized I hate her for making him into the person he is now. Somewhere in between all of this, I fell in love with a girl, too. I've known her for a while - she used to date Drive and was part of that whole high school group that I became a part of through Hands. She's fucking crazy as all get out, a total looner. She deathly believes in all kinds of crazy, far out shit and has a total fucked up view on things she developed through her parents' divorce and drugs and music at a young age. I think it makes her fucking rad. She wouldn't stop telling me how gorgeous I looked and kept raving on my hair and makeup and overall being. Most people were saying the same, but I just took more value from her saying it. I got a picture of her holding her Fat Tire and a cigarette while smoking out of a pipe and that's when I knew that I was in love with her. I thought about what it would be like to kiss a girl and have sex on the leather couch in the birthday boy's younger brother's room with this red mock police beacon on. I wanted to teach her about love the way no one has ever taught her before and convince her it exists, even though I'm not so sure about it myself. A bunch of other shit happened, obviously, but these things stand out clearest in my mind. How (maybe just for me) awkward it was to be around guys I used to have shit with and how I fall in love with people for the smallest reasons. ... This whole entry probably doesn't make sense but I just need to write it to get it out of my system. I need to put the emotions down one click at a time and leave them in this box limited to thirty thousand characters so I can erase them from my thoughts one click at a time and limit my emotions again to zero.
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