Woke Up Nude

Around 6 this morning, I realized I passed out on my bed in the middle of changing. I left my boy shorts on though. That's usually commendable. I drove myself home drunkenly last night--in some sort of a panic that I was TOO drunk? It's true though. I don't know how I got home but I probably shouldn't have done that. But also I probably don't give a shit since I simply do not give a fucking shit. Ever? It bothers me that people who don't want to die are unlucky enough to just drop dead one day but people like me (people who practically BEG for death to come sooner [lol @ referrence to my friends]) are still alive, wasting space. No matter how careless, I never drop dead. And knowing that I am far too pussy to kill myself (growing up to a stable family and all), I'll just always be on my toes, waiting for the glorious moment it comes for me. I am most in anticipation for it when I am driving or when I feel my chest tighten and I struggle to breathe (since it feels like a heart attack from the amount of nicotine I inhale). But as you know, considering I am typing this now at 7 in the morning, after passing out from my gin shots w/beer chase, it never comes for me. My sensible readers probably think I am a fucking idiot, but I never gave a shit about that. I don't question you for your will to live, but I know you question me for my will to die. Maybe I just get a kick out of it. Maybe I get a kick out of the shit you stray away from. The things you caution. The things you fear. The things you permanently marked idiotic. I beg to differ. I always beg to differ. Mostly because I get a kick out of it.