Had been away from my desk. Had been on the roof for three whole evenings and quarter nights. It wasn’t like I had anything important to do on the roof. I was just staring at the sky and feeling utterly cold out there and walking round and round in that little space and drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. I guess I was just tired of sitting at my desk. My roof is the only other space in my entire house where I can be found if I am not at my desk. Both places are equally sacred and equally damned for me. No hunger is felt until it’s close to midnight. No hunger all through the evening and afternoon. I am a beast poorly fed. I am a beast and I am confused about a whole lot of shit. Yesterday, drank too much again but the headache this morning wasn’t as severe as it was the last time I got drunk.Should I feel happy about it? How long before I stop writing about drinking and smoking and move on to other things. I really cannot say. For that, I cannot give you at date or a day or even a year. Hell, I cannot give that even to myself. I am so damned and out of my head all the time. Nothing electric happened today. What a goddamn waste of time. What a goddamn waste. Tomorrow might be a big day for someone, a frightening day for someone else. For me, it’s would be just another day with the same old shit coming around in new clothes.
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