To be Drunk and Alone...

After laying face down on the floor for about 15 minutes, I decided to get up and pull my hair back in case I should vomit. Feeling a weighted sensation on my chest, I decided it wasn't the smartest thing in the world to top off a night of Amber Bock and Lebatt Blue with Wild Turkey. I feel like I could throw up, but I can't and probably won't. I sucks to lay on the floor alone and yet I'm no longer on the floor...instead, I'm at my computer typing strangely well. I wish I weren't alone right now; I just want someone to talk to-someone who understands what it's like be a brown corduroy, as we're few and far between in this world. Yes I like popsicles and yes sometimes I feel I am all alone in this world...but never so much as when I'm face down on the living room floor feeling like I'm riding the swings ride at the county fair. I don't have to be laying face down on this burber carpet all by myself right now. It doesn't have to be like this. I don't have to even be tucked into bed...all it would take is a reassuring voice to tell me to pick myself off the ground and put myself into a bed. It's been dying for a while. But never has it felt so dead as now, as I lie face down on this coarsely carpeted floor.