Another 16 Ounce 5 AM

I was sitting in the dark, watching bullshit when the lightning flashed outside. I stopped staring at or through the television and continued to watch the sky, waiting for another flash. Recalling the day. And the day was actually not bullshit, although it began that way. I dragged myself out of bed because she said that it was a nice day outside, so I forced myself up and out. I walked to the bar down the street. I was supposed to be at a conference that I paid almost 200 dollars to attend. But there is always a reason to not to go somewhere. I sat in the bar and watched the White Sox win in the 10th because of Viciedo's walk off home run. Then I got the message from my blood. Meet me. I did. Things, for myself, were and are falling apart. That conference, an internship...so against it all. I can't follow through. Why? I hate now but I am unwilling to change it. Opportunity is there. Maybe all I want to do is drink and die. I think that I know that I am doomed. There's something festering inside of me. Some fucking death. I only feel better about myself when I know that everyone else is failing just like me. It's starting to rain...
Because I need to know that my strangeness is not just me, it is the world. That these complications are not just mine. That we all share in troubles. And maybe, if we all just understood one another and stopped trying to trump one another or move forward....no, that's me. That's me being a fucktard. Never comfortable in my own skin or in my own shoes or wherever. Always making things more complicated than they need to be. Okay, this is going nowhere. I'm drinking at ten to six in the morning listening to the Revolting Cocks, something is wrong. I'm going to watch the storm come in.