Ok I have to stop with the drunk blogging. Nonsense. Also I have to stop eating in my bed while drunk. Both of these things seem like such good ideas at the time. Eh, such is life. Gotta deal with the effects.

The Book of Longing by Leonard Cohen is beautiful. That's about it. It's making me want to write poetry.

Oh you, a living, breathing things like me,

With your muscles stretched across your back.

And worry lines carved into your forehead

The place where I don't go anymore,

Where you undid me.

I was addicted,

to the recognition,

of myself,

in you.