anxiety, art, bipolar, substance abuse

truth or dare

remember “truth or dare?” dare always seemed much edgier and more interesting. truth leaves it wide open to people to make stuff up and say it’s the truth. i think that’s the case with everything. think about it, dare! rob a liquor store! truth, have you ever robbed a liquor store? see what i mean?

dusk

i wouldn’t want to work at, or own, a liquor store. talk about boring. selling alcohol to people who are already drunk. after clubbing up in the city we stopped to buy more beer. i wanted a tasty imported beer so i got st. pauli girl. it wasn’t until we were in the car that i realized they weren’t twist off bottles. i was tempted to pry the caps off with my teeth.

muck

i broke quite a few little bits of my teeth off with the years of piercing metals in my tongue and lips. when i bit down hard on a tooth while playing with the piercings, the pain shot through my whole head. i did my best to forget. i guess i forgot.

they didn’t have the nitrous because of some regular fuck up. regular as clockwork or bowels in good working order. they offered me Valium but i cried because i always took xanax before. what good would a valium do me? drop in the proverbial bucket. that’s the second time i’ve said “the proverbial” in this blog. i tell myself forget, forget, forget.

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