In frustration, I throw the empty bottle at the wall as hard as I can. I want to hear the shatter of glass, I want to carelessly pick the pieces op and cut myself and taste the blood that daily brings me closer.

I live in a fucking tent.

Padded walls.

Empty bottle.

Two full bottles of incredible Cabernet.

Good to keep the destruction progressing.

Fuck. It isn’t even eight o’clock yet.

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