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it's friday night, 11.30, words are slurred and vision's blurry, probly drank a bit more than i should. i'm not quite sure of the amount, it's not a good sign, losing count, the rest of the night's prognosis isn't good. start to stagger home but can't withstand the lure of the burger van though i know i'll regret it later on. yeah i know my stomach's gonna pay but swallow it down anyway, it'll be on its way back up before too long, when i'll be sprawled out, gagging, eyes rolled back in my head, waiting for my next stomach-churning, tonsil-burning torrential outpour. cos my legs don't work and eyes don't seem to focus anymore so i guess i'll be sleeping in a vomit-reeking, sweaty heap on this cold fucking bathroom floor.
once home it seems like a good plan to smoke, and my retarded hands manage to skin up at the third attempt. two lungfulls and the nausea's kicking in and soon the room begins to spin, a self-induced coma feels imminent. but as i lay down and close my eyes my stomach contents start to rise so i pay the bathroom a hasty visit then try for my bed once the puking ends, but moving sets me off again so i might just rest my eyes here for a bit... so now i'm sprawled out, gagging, eyes rolled back in my head, waiting for my next stomach-churning, tonsil-burning torrential outpour. cos my legs don't work and eyes don't seem to focus anymore so i guess i'll be sleeping in a vomit-reeking, sweaty heap on this cold fucking bathroom floor. i'm feeling pretty drained now, i've been driving the porcelain bus for miles. face down on linoleum's not what i meant by a night on the tiles. vomit drips from my lips as i slip into unconsciousness knowing i'm still owed a day of feeling like shit for this evening's excess.
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