bar bar bar

Things come in threes, didn't you know? I came back from the bar. This is a bar entry. And I shall not edit it.

Things are very strange. I went to Vice with several people, feeling like the centre point, and I don't usually do that. Let it "all hang loose" and all. I keep hitting the damned caps lock key. So much for not editing, huh?

I dunno. Sometimes my personality only really comes out through drucgs, be it socially acceptable ones like alcohol and nicotine and caffiene. And I contemplate. What am I really hiding, that's so unacceptable that I can only reach it through artificial means? (I'm really having trouble typing. Ha.) Only I know the answer to that. I take the burden not noticably, but acceptablingly (what kind of word is that??). I take burdens. I do nothing with them. Only accept them and carry them with me. Give me everything. I will move it for you. Maybe I'm in the wrong career field.

But honestly, I don't try to do it. I think too much anyway. Oh, how my old-school website would have benefited from drunk ramblings, where one is having trouble finding the correct keys...

I'm not making a relevant comment here. Decide for yourselves. Maybe I;ve got too many barricades. Perhaps I should be drunk all the time. I talk well. Ha.

Seeing yourself from an outside perspective is important. I look at my sloppy self in the mirror and contemplate. Would I be the same if I wore cleavage-shirts and went for pizza after the bar?

Probably not.

This is all irrelevant, you know.

Ha.