it’s already the 21st. i’ve barely noticed how quickly time’s tumbling past. not that i have some exhilarating excuse for it. i haven’t been sober a single day this month.

i almost expected something drastic and momentous to happen on the 1 year anniversary of the worst thing i ever did. nothing did, obviously. i cried for a while and my eyes were puffy, i hurt myself, didn’t sleep, walked around, picked up my cat from her surgery, stood in the freezing rain for 45 minutes and sobbed in the streets while i waited for the taxi. shitty day. breathless wailing in some industrial complex in nepean, crouched in a ball with a tiny creature in a bag and frozen fingers gripping my sides and a soaking wet jacket to shield me from nothing. and nobody around to save me, just me and my cat. wanted to tell you about it. couldn’t. can’t tell you fucking anything anymore. have to scream it to the walls.

can’t get through days without some incentive to do so anymore. gotta buy myself food or coffee or redbull or something, or smoke my brains out or fall asleep clinging to a bottle or get so high i forget how to speak. i’m useless. can’t do shit in a world like this.