Monday, 13 July 2009

Sunday 1st August 1993

Zero Alcohol.

Been sick all day. Not eaten in days. Can't face food, or booze. Its making me feel very ill. My brain, chest and liver are surely starting to strain under the weight of such torrential abuse. Im like a peacock, displaying my beautiful, scarred plumage and only attracting hell and all its minions. They stick to my feathers, and won't let go. It is a headf**k which I cannot take anymore.

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