Reflections of no sound

Tonight, I went out. SHOCKER, I know.

I find that going out alleviates the pain of working for a shoe shine boys salary with the stress levels of a neurosurgeon. Tonight, however, I made use of ear plugs. What does this have to do with anything you might be wondering? Everything to be honest. Tonight I saw the nightlife of my current location, and all I saw was this twisting, turning, screaming body of vapid thought and conscious. At the end of the night, all I could feel were my eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

The problem with being me, as I've been trying desperately to dissect and analyze where things might have gone wrong. Hypothesis being breaching the birth canal. All I can say is that I don't fit into this city. I'm kind of an awkward fixture that just happens to amuse and alleviate the pressure of certain other individuals while I remain here, but I don't feel like I belong here. I don't actually relate to anyone. True I have my friends, whom I value and cherish, cause at the moment, aside from being able to drown my thought processes with vodka and gin, they are truly the only saving grace to which I attribute my sanity to. My current situation is that of desperation.

I don't think I can survive here much longer. As much as I need to stay, I wonder if I can actually do so. Truth be told, there is a lot of hurt and pain here. And while many might think that I have this strong and willful personality, at the end of the day, I cry myself to sleep more than I care to mention, and I definitely know for a fact that I'm a problem that cannot solve itself. Had I an insurance plan, I can assure you, I'd be heavily medicated, taking my prozac with a vodka martini just to be on the safe side.