Sometimes I have brief moments of mentalism. In these moments I often find myself horrifically drunk yet surrounded by those who are sober. In these moments I often find myself calling a man, calling fifty men, talking at them, slurring at them, hanging up, then getting angry when they don’t call back. In these moments I’m talk very loudly. In these moments I mock people and find it funny. They don’t find it funny. In these moments I’ll think I’m flirting. I will be failing. In these moments I hate the way I look, but I think fuck it, nobody cares and I’ll be dead soon. In these moments I think about destroying my body. In these moments I paralyse myself, kill every chance of ever sustaining something close to happiness. In these moments I want to suffer, to punish myself for crimes uncommitted. These moments will never end.