Step 1: After three weeks of my mother's nagging, I finally decided to gather enough energy to put a fitted sheet on my mattress. I must've gotten very used to the feel of dust mites because a fitted sheet feels amazing against my unshaven legs right now.
Step 2: I should convince myself that playing Edward 40hands night after night (by myself I might add) is very bad for my liver. But also, whiskey night after every other night is also bad for my liver. Although, I never cared much for my liver and am excitedly anticipating the day a doctor tells me that it has collapsed. Also I like the pleasing combination that whiskey, cigarettes, and laryngitis does to me. It's like bitching as a different person. But not really because I'm staying away from most human contact.
Step 3: Being head over heels in love with yourself is a very strange feeling. It teaches you not to take yourself for granted in fear that yourself might leave you. So you learn to curl up in bed, cuddled with your lovely self, having a drink with yourself (refer to step 2), and thinking of all the great times you have had, are having, and will have. It involves a lot of sleeping and a lot of varying inflections of grunting to replace verbal responses to other human beings.
Step 4: With love comes hate. Being utterly and disgustingly hateful toward yourself is also a very strange feeling. My popularly adoring self-deprecating comments (although very amusing and accurate) are destructive to my so-called self-esteem. Right? I think? I'm clearly unsure about step 4 because self-loathing is a mighty beautiful thing. Nevermind.
Step 5: Try your best not to wake up sleeping people with the crack of your beer can.
Step 6: "I'm on the pursuit of happiness" followed by suicide (although cryptic) seems...sensible. Maybe not sensible. But it seems conscious. It seems like clarity. I'd never had to deal with anyone I know offing themselves. But now knowing of someone...and my bitching about the horrid, unbearable length of living... I don't know. I guess I feel weird.
Step 7: Everyone seems sad too I guess.
To close this drunken ordeal (because I'm easily getting drunker by the minute), I'm taking things one step at a time. Just as I should. I may or may not be getting tired of trapping myself in here. We'll see.
