You guys ain't so raw.

Okay so brief shitpost before the substance: fell off the wagon a month ago (3 months? I dunno). Back to the old litre of vodka a day, crack and heroin in the last hurrah. Fucking junkies, worst part of my day. But I get sick off the drink first, then the brown seems like a good idea. Okay so at work my boss says "I thought you weren't going to make it, but you've pulled your finger out in the last couple weeks". The last couple weeks.. when this death spiral began. Just got a flat I can't afford, yeah view of the Thames and Canary Wharf, how's that for self pitying CA fuck? I'll lose it soon, I feel it. Holding on for something, feel the train approaching. The rail my torso rests on rumbles (METAPHOR). Oh yeah, I was on here a couple years ago, you guys were a lot cooler. "Cut it down for a few days" "Believe in yourself" "Sort your shit out, it gets better". Fuck you, you are gay now, celebrate death. Cheers cunt.