Wednesday, July 16, 2008,
Jaded.
He went for another round of late night entertainment, with a heavy heart and one thing in his mind. He had forgotten the number of times he visited those places ever since the rope to the other world snapped.
He put on a smiley mask throughout the long night but inside that smile, behind that mask, somewhere inside him is bleeding. He doesn't want to pretend anymore, he can't remember the amount of tears he held back, he no longer tasted sweetness in alcohol anymore. However, he just force those extremely bitter/sour liquids down his throat, shot after shots. He lost count on them and his head just feel heavy, very heavy.
Vague memories of them slowly filling up his mind, the images of her, the words she said and the look on her face when she felt asleep around his arms, so pure and cherubic. It kept repeating in his head no matter how hard he tried, he's just can't stop them simply because he just don't have the intention to do that.
That night, he was weary, he drank to his sorrow. He was abusing alcohol.
