Coming to Terms.

That's what I'm doing right now.

Relieving the events of last night. 

Filing away what needs to be hidden.

I don't know how I feel.

I should have said no.

I should have taken control.

I should have stopped it.

He would have stopped.

I think.

I am re-evaluating my values.

And if nothing else, last night set me against sleeping with those I have no feelings for.

I am guilty.

I am reconsidering my self worth.

It is terrible.

I despise it to the last fiber of my being.

Fuck any hope I had of a man worth it.

Fuck it all.

Fuck my best wishes.

One day.

Maybe.

I hate myself.

To an insane degree.

All of it.

School.

Life.

Sex.

None of it is worth it at this point.

I don't know what to do with myself right now.

I hate every single person right now.

Five, maybe six are exempt.

I want to write something of consequence.

Share something of meaning.

Impact anyone.

That's a lie.

I am nowhere near healthy enough to impact anyone.

Fuck my life.

Sideways.

Clever.

So proud.

I love myself right now.

I'm under the influence of alcohol.

I should stop it.

I should take care of myself.

  I should love.

Myself mostly.

It's so damn hard.

So fucking difficult.

I want to be healthy, I swear I do.

I think.

I'M STRUGGLING.

And I'm jealous.

Of Grace.

Even though her relationship is unhealthy.

As far as I know.

I don't know much though.

Thank you Bicardi.

I really appreciate all you've done in my life.

You deceitful being.

Control.

Can I have all of it?

I'll give a fair price.

As long as it's under what I make in a day.

Which is nothing.

I'm quite the prize.