Was someone to love me like I love me.
But then someone did, but by nature of “the damaged loves the damaged” law, he’s so fucked I can barely stand it because I’m so fucked I seem abusive to him too.
So goes my life. With me, ever convinced that I’m not meant to be happy. I want to be. But it just doesn’t seem likely. But you know what I can be? Successful. I’m kind of throwing my all into writing, because that’s what it takes and what else do I have?
I do worry about my alcoholism.
But what isn’t there to worry about?
I’m going to lose my goddamn shit when I lose Oscar.