High

I'm wasting away, body, mind and soul. I could sleep all day and night and still wake up feeling totally wiped out. I'm whining again. I can't help it. I'm not reading at all, nothing of any great interest at least. I tried to. The only literature that seems to interest me of late is my weekly dose of celebrity gossip. I take delight in the carnal pleasures the world has to offer wherever i can find them. The closest description to a feeling i can come up with is high. I feel high. It's ironic. I've officially stooped to a new low. I'm becoming trashy. I don't like it one bit. I'm hoping shame will find me at some point. I'm hopeful. He's leaving in 10 days and i can't decide if i want to see him off at the airport. I'm afraid to be honest. I'm afraid that the tears won't come and the numbness won't go away. Plus it's always better to not know that the last time you see someone is the last time. It's better this way. I need a drink, another drink and a cigarette. I'll be back, with renewed strength in due course.