Pissed down all day. Thats ok, I do my own fair share of pi$$ing everything onto my shattered skeleton. Im numb to reality, but bathing in serenity. I see the real world real fine and thats whats got me drinking. Others drink because they have no spine, or they want a better, more exciting ego, but I drink because my eyes are wide open and my soul feels every bump of the road.
The girl in Spar has got to be more talkative before I can make my move. I send all the 'interested' signals, smiles, eye contact, but she has to respond clearer. Or perhaps she knows what I am. She serves me with booze often enough.
Got blotto. No news is good news. Hic!!
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