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Numb.

The days are beginning to blur as I work on perfecting mixing absinthe drinks. Too much influence..


I’ve also been perfecting in my saying yes. No one has seemed to notice the wiser. Recreation and rediscovery. Masking the ennui. Masking the distant thoughts. Masking the death.


A contempt for the abuse directed inwards. Too much time wasted. Too much money wasted. Too much blood and tears wasted. In the end the only one that one can rely on and trust is the self. A completely disposable and replaceable commodity, and to believe otherwise, though positive thinking, is just a lie.

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