Disclaimer: Never ever used this language in my life.

I'm going to try my best not to be one of those people who just wrote about their crazy useless idiotic piece of shitty nightlife, but this post is gonna be one of those. The reason for the language (excuse me) is because it is what it is. I have no idea why I wanted to go hangout in the first place. Yeah, so I'm probably getting caught up with being broken up with Husky. And I'm muddling with the whole distancing thing. We keep our distance but we talk, we can't afford not to. It's for our sanity's sake. I'm at downward spiral people, it if wasn't clear enough. Just three weeks ago, the results I got for my papers would get me screaming and squealing with joy. My reaction was unbelievable and unrecognizable, not to mention uncharacteristically of me.

Last night, thing freaking changed. I know that MJ and I party hard. But last night was arguably one of the hardest time we did it. We hit the club, rockstarred the queue and as a result, MJ, Chris and I were let in without even lining up. Incidentally, we ditched the rest of the gang in the process since they were in the queue. I gulped down nearly a whole mickey of absolut on empty stomach as the pre-game plan. Guessed what, by coat check, I had my first dancing partner. Even before hitting the club, I fell down twice, bruised my knee, and strutted proud. I won't even list the thing we did. Pretty sure fugly pictures of us gonna show up in random search since we did took picture with a scenegrapher. And sooner or later I'm convinced that our picture will be noted as an excellent example of why drinking and camwhoring is bad for life. We rocked it for a few hours and went out with bunchloads of numbers we're not calling and freakin tickets to a Ludacris party. We had pizza store locked us out and cabbie kicked us out and driven home by random stranger and met drunk teenagers along the way, not to mention formed a swarm of pointless dudes in the train compartment. I drunk dialed, she drunk text, whatever. In short we ended the night with pots. That's how I started my morning too.

Sounds awesome but it was a big slap. I don't like being drunk. I don't like being stoned. I like to know what I'm saying. I like to say to that fucking dude that his dick was so fucking small they should castrate it altogether and ban him from any pounding attempt.

I had megaload of fun. But it was a big kick for me to get real. It's over, life goes on. I'm not gonna move on if I'm only running away from my life. Breakups are hard, because you have to face it by yourself. No matter how many sweettalks of 'You're the only one I wanna be with' if that's not gonna happen, you, I mean, I, definitely I, have to face it chin up. It's a shame should I behave so cowardly when I have been working my ass to be strong. If time is what I need, time is what I'll make.

Oh God thank you for your hangover. No shit the ground was moving when I woke up this morning. But because of it, I'm fucking sober now. ...