aw, fuck

I ended up going to a party of college friends tonight. I am drunker than I've ever blogged before.

If any of this is legible, it's a happy circumstance. I saw stupid E, and I saw a lot of friends before asshole showed his face.

It is not him. It is the idea of him.

Who he actually was was never enough, and I know that, even shit-faced.

Anyway, as I was prostituting myself around the room (after he arrived of course, up until then I was having a great time), I thought, 'How absurd.' So there was self-awareness in action--somewhere. I though about asking friends of mine, who probably would of, to kick his ass. But it boiled down to me, in a drunken moment, that all of this was my struggle. He just took on a part for a moment (hopefully one that the artistic director would remember) but nonetheless a moment. A moment.

Fuck him.
It didn't prove a thing except I looked nice. And.... really, only that I looked nice.
Fuck.

Fuck us both, I guess

I am so drunk. I hope I can make it tomorrow. And I do hope, in my drunken rage, that he will suffer. Suffer equally. Not greatly (as nothing between us was great) but equally.

It's important deep down that all of us hurt at some point.