In a sea of people I die of thirst. Despite having many “friends” and always being around people, I feel so alone. I feel as though I am on a different plane of existence among the people I share the same space and time with. Everything feels so jaded, artificial, fake.

The smile that I have on my face every day is just for show, a mask I put on as an attempt to shield everyone from my dark nature, it is a poor one at that and deep down I know others can sense that something is quite wrong. I know one day I could possibly become an alcoholic; if I work real hard and put in effort one day I’ll be the self imploding, substance abusing, bitterly romantic, washed up writer I know I can be. Despite the fact that I try to cover it up with a twisted sense of humor, I know the people around me know that I’m not quite as normal as others. I am also aware that my life is very capable of becoming a wonderfully great symphony or a brilliantly woeful tragedy.

The romanticized notions of being a remarkable gifted yet deeply self destructive man deeply seduces me, I’m afraid of what crazy things I am capable of due to my insane imaginings and a nothing to lose kind of attitude.

I have this itch that I so desperately want to scratch but nothing I do satiates my desire for the sweet, euphoric, almost-orgasmic release I’m seeking. Booze and drugs seem to be becoming my safety blanket, but even a combination of both do little to numb this nonsensical hollow existence I find myself suffocating in.

I love women, but it seems as though I use them for validation to remind myself that people want to be with me, they accept me, but this I cannot accept. I warn them not to develop feelings for me at the very start, despite knowing it will hurt my chances of an intimate relationship. It is as if the little good left in me is warning all those who don’t know me to be weary of the dark sweet talking demons I have within.

Believe me, stay away from me; I am but damaged goods and I have enough sins to answer for in the next life without having to add corrupting you to the list. Turn around, walk away and find yourself a better guy. Trust me, you’ll look back on this moment in years to come and you’ll think yourself lucky for escaping while you still could.

Booze and Drugs, the sweet numbing shower of relief you give me. The familiar buzz lifting my head and heart, lightening my soul for a few hours. I know it’s temporary, but my god it is worth it. Did I just laugh? I forgot what that was like; I remember now, I feel light like the clouds. I’m floating on life again. Oh how amazing it is to have lost my brooding self for just a couple of minutes. My relentless mind has finally taken a break from torturing me, a wave of peaceful woe is what I am left with which considering the alternative; a constant state of searching for something that you can’t find, but so desperately want, is something I welcome.

The block of writers has been flung onto my head from a great distance to leave me unnervingly dazed and confused. I can’t find the words to express just how lost I really am. My demons are growing stronger each night and the most frightening thing is I’m giving them permission to lead me on this path of impending chaos.