The following essay I wrote months ago, while I was pretty drunk. I am not sure if you all have been hip to the suicide theme this month, being suicide prevention month and all, but this one highlights some of my suicidal thinking when I am drinking.
I am sure that this last month worth of reading might have been difficult for you, especially if you care for me, but these essays are not written the day I post them, rarely every the week I write them, and often I don’t post them for months. I have showcased a collection of my more suicidal writings here due to the month. So no one needs to worry, I am actually doing rather well. Look forward to the less dense material once the calendar turns to October.
Here we go:
It is amazing how depressed I get when I am drunk.
Tonight I was just sitting in the basement editing a podcast, drinking rum and cokes all by myself and I wound up drunk and here I am.