Distracted
I used to be more alcoholic, viewing regular consumption as a way out. A creature of extremes, it seems I am, and I've moved on to a state that is slightly more reminiscient of self-mutilation than actual alcoholism. I merely sat down and decided to drink until something bad happened. I knew it would be to me: I simply have far too much self-control for anything to let me slip, not truly.
Ever since I've had trouble even considering touching the stuff. My survival instinct is just too strong and I just can't, even though it might be nice. A little dragon offered me ice wine, video games, and her company and instead I chose angst and sleep. Sometimes I wonder at the decisions I make, even though I seem compelled to make them.
Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Modest Mouse - Polar Opposites (song d/l)
Currently Eating: Burrito and Chocolate and Milk