In some ways I really regret writing the previous entry, and in other ways I do not: embarrassing, well, hell yes, of course! but also, it is also quite illuminating. There's what you're saying, and then what you think your saying, and they're not always the same thing.

For me getting drunk is like sending an unmanned probe down into sunless Mariana Trench of my subconscious, and then forcing myself to re-examine the grainy video footage of whatever strange and grotesque fish have somehow managed to survive in the cold bleak waters of that particularly inhospitable environment. I sink beneath the waves of coherency straight down to the bottom like a concrete slipper. When you write you tend to make unforced errors, you reveal, despite what you may desire, the truth. Being honest isn't always attractive. On the contrary, on occasion the truth is so ugly it cracks one mirror after another. And with me it's all unforced errors. I am compelled, driven forward like a blinkered mule being whipped viciously from behind by a invisible master he is unable to turn his head and see.

To be honest I only remember writing about sixty percent of the shit on this site, the rest was produced, almost automatically, in a kind of alcoholic semi-trance or stupor; I go elsewhere, elsewhere entirely, and I come back from these furious alcoholic blackouts clutching a fist full of torn pages, from a book I cannot find, anywhere, on any Rolodex in the entire library of daylight.

I am compelled, and I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing, but it's a thing.

Apparently I was a total mess the other night, as usual can't really remember any of it, apologize to anyone that had to deal etc.