5 glasses of wine and 3 martinis later
I am as fucking drunk as can be. A fifth wheel (two other couples) sitting on a couch listening to the eurhythmics. I inspected my face and staring at my teenage complexion realized I have no clue who I am anymore. This person who didn’t believe in casual sexual encounters who is dying to be held, cuddled and loved. What the fuck is this?
If I start to cry I’ll never stop. I wish my dad or ilya were here. Ilya would make me feel better…I could go online.
I hate how if you put your head against a mirror, you become a Cyclops. It makes me think of Eskimo kisses and how I used to think this was the most intimate way of looking into a person’s soul – but the ability to do it to yourself denies this.