Just Enjoying the Sunshine

My life has become so easy to live that it makes me sick. I’ve realized the futility of lists and declarations, while self-loathing has failed to provide a stimulus. I have reached a point of deep, deep lowness. I think of doing nothing interesting while the days are filled [in an attempt to pass time] [only to do the same thing tomorrow] with TV, food, booze and cigarettes. Somewhere in that mix I squeeze in some phone calls. And that’s literally all I do. I can’t make another list preparing for such things as sobriety, exercise, sewing, and early slumber. But I also can’t continue like this. I will seriously die. Either from depression, substance, boredom or all three. 

Letter-Writing is a Dead Art No More

Dear Farrah,

One drink is never one drink. You are not able to live that lifestyle—no matter how much you want it. It’s not because you’re weak, but because you’re human and all humans have imperfections. I don’t want yours to be where you put a shotgun to your head.

It was boring sober, but it was livable, feasible, and functional. Besides to be totally honest, you were happier too. If anything, everything feels so much worse right now.