I want a goddamn drink. I want to get wasted, in fact. Fucking genetics and fucking impulse control problems and fucking addictive personality. I wouldn't even mind being an alcoholic if I wasn't a batshit insane alcoholic, which I am.
I miss my rat Oscar and I miss my fiance and I had a rough day at work. I just want something to go my way for once. Why is everything so damn difficult? You kind of expect the bad to be leveled out with the good in life but when your life is a giant sucking black pit of despair, you kind of expect in the back of your mind that something really good has to eventually happen. But it never does happen. And then you realize that your life sucks and will probably always suck and, even worse, will probably manage to suck even more tomorrow or next week or next month. And you can't even drown the suckiness in booze, because you're a fucking alcoholic.
I want to scream. I want to rage. It's not fucking fair. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and my mother will be dead. That would be swell and just my luck, wouldn't it?
This hopelessness pisses me off so much. I demand that something go right in my life. MY ENTIRE LIFE CANNOT BE ONE LONG SLIDE INTO THE ABYSS. I refuse to live if it is.