Monday 25 March 2013

I was desperate for a drink

It started this morning. I was desperate for a drink - no, more than that - I was desperate to be drunk, to be completely and utterly drunk.

Why? I'm sorry but I don't know the reasoning behind it, all I know is that it came over me with a fucking viciousness about it that had hurt in large quantities in it.

There was only one thing that I could do to cope with it and that was to head outside into the fresh air, into the sunlight and head down to the shore of the Atlantic. I sat on the beach and looked out to sea and dreamed, I thought things through and thought about my future.

I spent a lot of my time with nothing but fresh air going through my excuse for a brain but I did get to the other side, tired and worn out from something that I can't really explain. I just know what it was all about.

It was about an addiction that I suffer from, possibly always will do and I will not lose control of it again. I won't let it beat me again.

After all, why should I - why the fuck should I?

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